


Loyalty

by HopeSilverheart



Series: Loyalty [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Eventual Relationships, Found Family, Gen, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff Pride, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not giving a damn about the house cup, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Severus has a daughter, Traditions, Will add tags as I go, Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), various points of view
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 74,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22085269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeSilverheart/pseuds/HopeSilverheart
Summary: Victoria Snape thought that Hogwarts was her opportunity to be normal. Then, she finds out that her father is a professor, that the house divisions are ridiculous, and that everyone is too obsessed with themselves to pay attention to a group of first-years. And of course, there's the rumours about Slytherin's heir, the petrifications, and a suspicious diary that found its way into her new friend's hands. Needless to say, normality was overrated.---Her story is about loyalty, friendship and family, about powerful girls and mysterious fathers; it's about ambition and laughter and hope and love, defying the odds, and trying your very best to protect those you care about.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s) (past)
Series: Loyalty [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669474
Comments: 27
Kudos: 103





	1. Victoria Snape

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Welcome to the first installement of my Loyalty series.
> 
> This particular fic follows Victoria Snape as she attends her first year at Hogwarts, but we'll be getting quite a few different points of view. Obviously, Severus' backstory and plot have been changed by yours truly, although he is still very much the Snape that we know and love (or hate, although please do keep the bashing of characters to a minimum in the comments). 
> 
> The rating and warnings may change as we go on, but for now the story will be quite light-hearted and family-friendly, and I'll be sure to add chapter-specific warnings if I do ever touch upon something that could be hurtful to some people. The tags will also be edited as I go, and feel free to tell me if you feel as though I've forgotten to mention something (a warning, a trigger...) so that I can rectify that as soon as possible. 
> 
> Most chapters will be edited by myself and betaed by my sister fall27, but don't hesitate to point out any mistakes you might have noticed or formatting issues or aything along those lines. 
> 
> On that note, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> PS: I do not own Harry Potter, only my original characters and ideas!

There were some things in the world that were always meant to be. Things that were made to be discovered; events that were fated to happen; wars that were destined to be fought; _people_ who were meant to be born.

And then.

And then, there were the mistakes. The things that Fate could not control, and that created infinities of different possibilities, of universes, of _futures_. It was what humans would call the Butterfly Effect. A simple event that Fate couldn’t control would lead to a change in the timeline; a change which could be unimportant just as it could be catastrophic just as it could be _miraculous_.

Severus Snape had always been fated to become a Death Eater, and Lily Potter had always been born to drift away from him. Fate had controlled Albus Dumbledore’s path, and Tom Riddle’s descent into madness, and so much more. What It hadn’t been able to control, however, was Melody Goldstein.

There was a world in which Melody died at the age of two, leaving behind a devastated family who would eventually fall to the dark. And another in which her mother miscarried, and she never got a chance to exist outside of the woman’s heart. Another in which she was alive, but stayed far away from the war, far away from anything that could hurt her. Many in which she was a coward, and many others in which she fought for those she loved.

Melody was an unknown factor that changed everything. There was a world in which she had been charmed by the Dark Lord and gave up her soul for power, one where she died in battle for the Light, and another where she had been sent to Ilvermorny with her brother, tucked away in a blanket of safety.

And then.

And then, there was this world. A world in which Melody was alive and in Hogwarts. A world in which she fell in love with a man only to turn away from him when he needed her most. A world in which her family’s hold on her was too strong for her to ignore. A world in which she laughed and knew joy, but let her ambition get in the way of her happiness.

And in this world, she took Severus Snape’s hand and went to Hogsmeade with him. She kissed him, held him, and daydreamed about the day when they would be married. She let him take her heart, her virginity, and everything that she could give.

However, in this world, Melody was a coward. And when she was given the choice between a hard life with the man she loved or a simple life without him, she left the Death Eater and chose tradition.

So although she had changed a lot of things, Fate got its way, and Severus Snape was left alone, abandoned by the woman he loved and the best friend he had known all of his life. On the 31st of October 1981, Lily Potter died, and Severus joined the Hogwarts staff.

Melody Goldstein looked from afar and tried not to cry as she held a screaming child in her arms. Severus Snape locked away his heart and shut everyone out, trying not to break when he heard of his love’s wedding. And Victoria Harmony Snape dreamed about her father, hoping that someday she would finally have him at her side.

* * *

_16 th of September 1980_

Melody had always thought that her wedding would be a beautiful day; she would wear a stunning dress and traditional robes, and she would be the happiest woman in the world.

The brunette sighed and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked miserable; the bags under her eyes were barely concealed by the layers of makeup that she had applied, her skin was paler than it had ever been, and she knew that as soon as she let go of the sink, her hands would be shaking.

At least her outfit was superb, black and deep purple, strands of silver making it sparkle – she told herself that she looked gorgeous, over and over again, but there were tears in her eyes as she whispered it into the empty bathroom.

Someone knocked at the door – third time in twenty minutes – and she knew that she would have to leave soon. In less than an hour, she would be married, and her new life would begin. In less than an hour, her parents would finally be satisfied, and she would officially be stuck in a loveless union.

“Melody,” her mother’s voice called out. She screwed her eyes shut and counted to ten.

“I’m coming, mother,” she responded.

She was too old for her parents to be treating her like a child – she was too _young_ to be getting married.

“She’s crying again, Melody,” her mother continued. She grit her teeth and looked at her _beautiful_ outfit. “You got yourself in this mess; the least you could do is take care of her.”

“Why don’t you ask Darius?” the young woman snarked back. “You wanted her to have a father so badly, why not just let _him_ deal with her?”

The silence that followed was answer enough; she was the woman, she was the wife, she was the one who had given birth to a child out of wedlock. Once she was married, everything she did would have to portray her as an exemplary pureblood; it was _her_ duty to take care of the girl.

The thought made her want to cry all over again: she couldn’t even say her daughter’s name. She couldn’t even bring herself to cherish it in the secrecy of her own mind. A part of her wished that the child could have taken her maiden name, or even Darius’ last name, but her parents had been firm; if she knew who the father was, then the child would take his name.

It was the law.

How she hated the law, the tradition. She had finally found her place in life; she had a good job, enough money to leave her family home, a respected name… And then she had to ruin it all by getting pregnant.

It was the price she had to pay for falling in love, her parents said.

“Melody!” her mother hissed from behind the door.

She clenched her fists and walked out, barely looking at the woman who gave birth to her as she headed for the nursery. The room was plain and bare, bigger than necessary, the perfect reflection of purebloods’ whole lives.

Her daughter, as her mother had said, was crying. As usual, her tears were mostly silent – always too quiet, probably remembering Melody’s screams on that second night.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her. She did; the girl was her flesh and blood, and she was so _small_ , begging to be cared for. But she looked so much like him, with her dark eyes and darker hair, her skin paler than any Goldstein’s had ever been. She saw him in their daughter, and her heart begged her to go back to him.

Her mind was stronger.

“Shh,” she soothed, picking her child up and rocking her gently. “Victoria, shh, you can’t be crying right now. I have to go do something important, and you need to go to sleep. It’ll all be better when you wake up, I promise. We’re going to live here, and it’ll be okay.”

Her words didn’t help – they never did – so with a sigh, Melody started to hum. She had lost her love of music months ago, but Victoria would only fall asleep to the sound of her voice. She had been the same, as a baby. It hurt her even more, to know that even though her daughter looked nothing like her, the two of them were already _so_ similar.

Finally, the crying stopped.

She looked at her child one last time, telling herself that she was doing this for _her_ , before heading outside to find her husband-to-be.

Darius Nott wasn’t a kind man, she didn’t think, but he was wealthy. He had power, influence, a respected name – even more so than her own, in some ways – and no need for an heir. He needed a trophy wife, an excuse to stop the offers, a way to satisfy his parents, and she needed something very similar.

Victoria would be… She would be taken care of.

Melody would be able to finish her apprenticeship – which she had had to put on hold during her pregnancy – and start working as soon as she was a Mistress of her discipline.

She would forget about those years of weakness, those months of pain, and she would move on. Darius would let her live her life as long as she let him live his – she wasn’t foolish, the lack of a fidelity clause in their marriage contract was blatantly obvious.

Nott Manor was big enough for the three of them; too big, big enough that they would hardly have to cross paths if they didn’t wish to do so. It wasn’t the family’s main residence, but Melody had grown up in a townhouse; she couldn’t even begin to imagine what the main manor must have looked like.

Darius looked her up and down appreciatively as she walked down the aisle, and she had to withhold a shudder of revulsion. The Nott brothers were older than her – not her first choice – and known to enjoy the company of women at all times.

_Stay strong_ , she told herself, _this is the beginning of a better chapter._

She ignored the pity in her brother’s eyes, the regret in her grandparents’ gaze, the glee in her mother’s stare. She ignored them all, focusing on the lesser evil. He was cruel, she had heard, but she was smart.

_Leave him alone,_ she whispered to herself, _and he will do the same._

She knew who his friends were, could see it in the way all of their left arms were covered, could feel it in the tense air, could hear it in their words. Death Eaters. They probably knew _him_. She wondered if Darius had told them about her daughter.

_Chin up, Melody,_ she steeled herself, taking Darius’ hand in hers, _there was nothing else to do_.

A thin smile, a tight grip on her wrist, and her life began again (ended, ended, _ended_ ).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After almost a year of working on this story, forgetting about it, and coming back to it again, I've decided to give it a shot on here. This isn't my first attempt at writing Harry Potter fanfiction (I have about 20-30 works waiting to be written) but it is the first time that I'm putting anything up on here. 
> 
> Truth be told, I'm hoping that having readers (or even a single reader) will give me more motivation to write. I already have two chapters written out and ready to be posted, but I'm going to see what you all think of this prologue before adding them, give me a little time to figure out the next few chapters. I do know where I plan on going with all of this, but writer's block is a pain and there are times when I just don't know what I want my characters to get up to. 
> 
> Thank you for reading,  
> Love, Julie.
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	2. Sorting Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> First chapter of the actual story, there's going to be quite a bit of exposition and character-building going on for the first two or three chapters so bear with me >.<
> 
> My writer's block seems to have officially left - at least for this story - so I should hopefully be updating somewhat regularly.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy a first look at the Harry Potter characters in this alternate universe!

After his first year at Hogwarts, Theodore Nott didn’t think things could get any stranger. There were rumours that Professor Quirrell – their defence teacher – had been possessed; and honestly, there wasn’t much that could top that.

Sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great hall, surrounded by his friends, he could only pray that their second year would be peaceful. Unlike Malfoy, he didn’t care much for the petty rivalry with Gryffindor. He was at school to learn, to spend time with the people he cared about and to get ready for the real world. He didn’t want to bicker with Potter, didn’t want to insult Granger, didn’t want to embarrass Weasley at every – okay, maybe the last one was a lie, Weasley really tempted him sometimes.

However, he certainly didn’t want to get involved in any nonsense. No adventures or mysteries or anything like that. He wanted to be normal, and he couldn’t do that if Malfoy was dragging their entire year into Potter-related messes or if the teachers were actually crazy demons trying to wreak havoc.

“You okay there Theo?” a gentle voice brought him back to reality and he found his closest friend, Daphne Greengrass, looking at him worriedly.

No matter how cold she was to other people – the Ice Princess, some called her – she was one of the kindest people he had ever met, and he treasured her friendship more than anything in the world.

He smiled at her reassuringly, not wanting her to fret over so little.

“I’m fine, Daphne,” he answered. “Just hoping for a quiet year.”

“Ah,” she sighed. “Sadly, with the Golden Trio around, I’m not sure how quiet _any_ of our years are going to be.”

Theo wasn’t sure either. Potter really did seem to attract trouble.

“Well, as long as we stay out of everything,” he shrugged. “Avoid anything and anyone who appears to be too problematic. Focus on our studies and all that.”

“Easier said than done,” Daphne pointed out before pouting. “Besides, what’s the fun in that? Do you really just expect me to spend our remaining six years avoiding all the drama?”

The light-haired boy couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s antics, shaking his head at her as she widened her eyes pitifully.

“Maybe I’m overestimating you a little bit,” he admitted. “But moving on, are you excited about Astoria being here this year?”

Daphne’s whole face lit up at the mention of her sister and Theo smiled fondly at her. Astoria was Daphne’s little sister and one of the only people the elder would give her life for.

“I am,” the blond girl said happily. “It’ll be good to have her around. I just hope she makes some true friends; I know she’s had trouble with that in the past.”

“Well, why don’t you check out her options,” Theo smirked, gesturing towards the group of first years who were shuffling into the Great Hall after McGonagall, looking awed and nervous. It was hard to believe that they had been in their place only a year prior.

There were slightly more children in this set of students than in their own, but the numbers looked similar enough. Theo could see Astoria near the back of the group, trying her best to keep her pureblood mask up even as she took in the sight of Hogwarts at its finest. She was a good girl, innocent but clever, and pretty enough to get away with a lot; there was no doubt what house she would end up in.

He didn’t know any of the other first years, but the ginger girl leading the group was undoubtedly a Weasley, and he thought he remembered a set of twins from one of the many events his family dragged him to. The rest of them all seemed to blur together, and Theo suddenly realised that he would have to sit through _all_ of these kids’ sorting.

Maybe that’s why the Welcoming Feast wasn’t a fan-favourite among older students. Nevertheless, there was nothing he could do about it except listen to McGonagall make her way through the list.

It started with “Alton, Pamela,” who was quickly sorted into Ravenclaw, and Theo was already sick of it.

A few names later, the twins were called up as the Carrows, whom Theo had indeed met at least a few times, and were put into Slytherin – unsurprisingly.

As the next students were called up, Theo looked away from the stool to focus on Astoria, who looked like she was trying very hard not to fidget. It was ridiculous how nervous she was, how nervous they had been a year before, when they knew perfectly well where they would end up.

Indeed, minutes later, Astoria hopped off the stool and towards the Slytherin table, a proud smile on her face.

That should have been the end of it; of Theo’s interest in the Sorting. His friend was sitting a few seats down from him and he didn’t care about the others. This would be a normal year. No disturbances.

He didn’t know anyone else, no other name should have grabbed his attention.

And yet, when only a handful of students remained standing, McGonagall’s eyes widened slightly, and she called out a name that he had _never_ expected to hear during _any_ Sorting.

* * *

It had been going too well, Cedric Diggory reflected. Every year, there had to be one student who drew everyone’s attention to them. It had been Potter the year before, and the Ravenclaw heir the year before that, and Sprout’s grandson his year. Some of his older housemates had told him that it was like a curse; a Hogwarts Sorting wouldn’t be complete without a surprise appearance.

This, though, shouldn’t have been possible. McGonagall should never have been able to call out “Snape, Victoria.”

Surely, they would have known if their potions professor had a _child_. Teenagers loved those sorts of things; spreading rumours about what the children were like, what kind of parents their teachers were. They would have _known_.

Cedric chanced a glance at Snape and the look in his professor’s eyes made him realise something; the professor was just as confused as they were. In fact, it was the first time Cedric had ever seen Snape with an expression other than boredom or disdain on his face.

He looked lost.

And then, a girl stepped away from the group of first years and Cedric got his first look at Victoria Snape.

His first thought was that she was much too beautiful to be Snape’s daughter, but he immediately reprimanded himself for thinking that way. _If_ she was their professor’s daughter, it was completely possible that she took after her mother.

She had pitch black hair that fell all the way down to her hips and dark eyes that _did_ remind him of Snape. She walked elegantly, like a pureblood, but she had a smile on her face and wasn’t as composed as other students like the Carrow twins he had spotted earlier. No, this girl was excited, and it showed. She stepped towards the Hat eagerly and grinned as it covered her eyes.

No one spoke as they waited for her to be sorted, although everyone was thinking the same thing; why was it taking her so long to be placed into a house when she had a last name like _Snape_?

But then, of course, she proved them all wrong as the Hat yelled out “Hufflepuff!” and her robes’ piping turned yellow.

Cedric almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Even if she wasn’t Snape’s daughter, she was a Snape. In Hufflepuff.

“What the hell?” the person next to him whispered.

Yeah, that seemed to be the question going through all of their minds.

But the first-year appeared completely unbothered by the turn of events, standing up and making her way to their table without a hint of disappointment.

She took a seat next to her fellow first-years, who all smiled at her kindly, and Cedric was struck with the thought that he had no idea how to act around her. She should have been just another student; he shouldn’t have had to think about it at all, just welcome her. But this girl was a Snape, possibly related to their professor, possibly said professor’s _daughter_.

He didn’t think there was any proper way to deal with this particular situation.

He was only glad that the first-years didn’t know who Snape was. Well, there were undoubtedly a few who had heard of him, but at least they weren’t treating her any differently. They had never had class with Snape, and it showed.

“… everyone staring at me like that?” Cedric overheard the Snape girl – Victoria – ask and he had to contain a grimace; they weren’t making the best first impression on the cubs.

He saw the girl sitting across from Snape shrug, and a few others glanced around, as though only just noticing the piercing stares coming from the older years.

In the end, a second-year girl with dark red hair answered the question, keeping her voice void of all emotion.

“Sorry, Snape,” she said stiffly. “I believe we’re all just wondering what your relation to Professor Snape is.”

“Profess-” the dark-haired girl started, her eyes suddenly widening comically as she whipped around to face the Head Table.

Well, Cedric mused, this would be an interesting year.

* * *

The redhead’s words echoed in Victoria’s mind as she scanned the professors sitting at the Head Table. The sorting had come to an end and the Headmaster was speaking, but she couldn’t focus.

 _Professor Snape_.

It didn’t sound like her father. From what her mother had told her, her father was a good man, but not a tolerant one. Certainly not one who would become a professor.

But… But the Snape family was muggle. Her paternal grandfather had been a muggle, and her father was the only Snape she knew of who had magic. Well, he was the only Snape she knew of at all, but that was irrelevant.

Master Snape. When her mother talked about her father in a professional context, she referred to him as _Master_ Snape, for his two masteries. Never as a professor.

However, her mother didn’t know everything. If she had been aware of a professor Snape at Hogwarts, she would have warned her; which meant that they were both as clueless as the other. It made sense, really, her mother had never actively tried to keep up with her ex-lover’s life, so of course she wouldn’t know if he had become a professor.

She finally spotted the man the other students were talking about sitting near the edge of the Head Table. He had pitch-black hair, quite like hers, and she thought his eyes were dark too, but he was too far away for her to really tell. He had a prominent nose, and the young girl’s heart clenched as she thought of the many times her mother had mentioned her father’s “beak” fondly.

So. So maybe this man was her father. Or maybe he was a relative she hadn’t been aware of. Or maybe he was no one at all, just a professor who shared her last name. Although if she was being honest with herself, that last one didn’t seem likely.

Oh well, she would write to her mother and ask for a picture of her father (she had never asked before, unable to see the lingering sadness in her mother’s gaze). For now, she would focus on the feast and on her new classmates.

“So, what are all of your names?” she asked the other first-years with a smile. They had all been sitting silently, as though unsure how to start a conversation, but Victoria had no such qualms.

The girl sitting across from her smiled brightly, clearly glad to have been addressed. She had blond hair tied back in a braid and beautiful forest green eyes that sparkled as she answered.

“I’m Poppy Caxton,” she grinned.

Victoria liked her. She liked her open expressions and her genuine smiles, her lack of hesitation – as though all she had needed was a little push – and the way she encouraged the others to introduce themselves as well.

There was no way she would remember all her housemates’ names on their very first night, but she nodded politely at their short introductions. They came across as very kind, and none of them were looking at her like the older students were. She briefly wondered what made it so hard for them to believe that their professor had a child; surely it had to happen every once in a while.

Then again, she couldn’t even begin to imagine any of her tutors outside of the workspace she had come to know them in, so maybe their curiosity was normal.

“Are you guys excited to be at Hogwarts?” Poppy inquired abruptly, startling Victoria as she reached for a jug of what she hoped wasn’t pumpkin juice – she couldn’t stand that stuff.

She poured herself a glass and frowned at the colour before glancing back up at the blond girl.

“I suppose I am,” she shrugged. “I mean, it’s still school, but I have to admit it’s a pretty amazing place to be. And my mum always talks about her years here fondly, so it can’t be bad.”

“I get what you mean,” the other girl beamed. “My dad can go on and on about Hogwarts this or Hogwarts that, and I can’t deny it makes me curious as to what exactly is so amazing about this place. Except for how beautiful it looks, of course.”

“Your parents went to Hogwarts?” a short boy with messy brown hair asked from Victoria’s side.

“My mum’s a muggle, but my dad attended,” Poppy explained, and the boy’s eyes brightened a little bit.

“Oh! Good,” he blushed. “I mean, neither of my parents are wizards, and I thought it might be a problem…”

“Well,” Victoria winced. “You’re bound to come across a few blood purists who’ll be assholes to you, but the Wizarding World is a lot more tolerant than it was a few years ago. You’re lucky to have been born when you were.”

“Yeah, muggleborns aren’t that big of a deal anymore,” Poppy added. “You’re a wizard and that’s all that matters. You don’t need anything other than magic to be here.”

“I’m glad,” the boy – whose name Victoria still couldn’t remember – smiled. “What houses were your parents in?”

“My dad was a Hufflepuff, actually,” Poppy grinned. “Although he would have been happy no matter where I ended up. Your school house doesn’t determine who you are or what you become; that’s what he always told me.”

“My parents were both Slytherins,” Victoria provided. “Pretty sure that’s how they met actually.”

“Oh, that would be nice,” Poppy said dreamily. “Imagine meeting the love of your life at Hogwarts? Seven years to find the perfect person.”

Victoria couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Well, my parents aren’t together anymore, but if you envy that, go ahead,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Poppy visibly deflated in front of her and she couldn’t help but feel a little bad for having said that.

“However, I’m sure there are plenty of people who found each other here,” the dark-haired girl added gently. “Mmm, let me think… The Weasleys’ parents met at school; I think. And so did Malfoy’s, and Potter’s now that I think about it.”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about Harry Potter!” the brown-haired boy exclaimed. “He’s the Boy-Who-Lived, isn’t he? That’s so cool.”

“Oh please, Eldon, that’s your name, right?” Poppy waited for the boy to nod before continuing. “Right then, Eldon, you shouldn’t let the title blind you. Potter’s just another person, like all of us. Yes, he’s famous, but does that really matter in the grand scheme of things? He lost his parents and didn’t really do anything extraordinary as far as we know; he also probably doesn’t remember that night. Besides, if you _really_ want to be famous, hard work is the best way to get there.”

Victoria had to nod along at her housemate’s words. Poppy was right. She’d much rather be known for her own achievements than for something that happened when she was one. It seemed that Eldon – she finally had a name to match the face – was thinking over what Poppy had just said, as his eyebrows were pinched together. She really hoped he took the other girl’s words to heart.

“You grew up in the Wizarding World, right Poppy?” she asked the blond girl, leaving Eldon to his thoughts. The girl nodded, not that Victoria was surprised. “So what subjects do you enjoy? I know we haven’t truly been able to practise magic, but you must have an idea already.”

“Yeah! I’ve always been a fan of Charms,” she replied. “There’s so much you can do with them… My dad says he was never good, so he hopes I’ll do better. And if I’m not a natural, I’ll just have to work even harder to get there. Other than that, maybe Defence; that’s always sounded interesting. What about you?”

“My mum’s a Rune mistress,” Victoria said, a hint of pride in her voice. “So I’m looking forward to that, but that’ll only be in third year. I actually love Potions and Defence, but mum says it’s in my veins. Apparently, the wizard side of my dad’s family has always had an affinity for those subjects. Nevertheless, I can’t wait for those. Does anyone know what Professor Snape teaches?”

She turned towards the second years sitting closest to them as she said and a pretty girl with blond hair glanced at her, nodding.

“He’s the Potions professor,” she said plainly. “I’m Hannah by the way, if you ever need anything. The prefects are always there, but if they’re busy, I’m often available, and I’ll try to help as best as I can.”

Victoria beamed at the girl.

“That would be great,” she said.

“That professor they mentioned really does seem like he could be your dad,” Poppy murmured, and Victoria nodded in agreement. They really _did_ look alike.

“Yeah, I’ll owl my mum tonight to try and find out more.”

* * *

Severus would have liked to deny it; to say that there was no way the girl was his daughter. But he had seen her, had seen her dark colouring, and even he had to admit that she could easily be related to him. If her last name had been anything else, he would have simply assumed that she was a distant cousin from his mother’s side.

However, her last name was Snape, and he was the _only_ wizard in Britain with that last name. Even then, denial seemed like the best option. He couldn’t possibly have a daughter that he didn’t know about. There was only one person whom he could have had a child with and… _Surely,_ she would have told him?

It bothered him, the _not knowing_. He had to refrain from staring at the girl, _Victoria_ , and her pitch-black hair, so similar to his own. She held herself with grace, and she was a pretty child. Severus would be lucky to have her as his daughter.

“You never told us you had a daughter,” Aurora Sinistra suddenly spoke up. She had kindly not said anything during the first half of the feast, but it seemed she was unable to help herself.

Although Severus couldn’t really blame her. Aurora was one of the few people he thought of as a friend, and had he known about the girl, he would have told her.

“I did not believe I had one,” he said sincerely. “And I am not even sure this girl is my child.”

“But it seems likely,” the astronomy professor finished for him. He nodded. Aurora stayed silent for a moment, as though debating whether or not she should say what was on her mind. Severus simply raised an eyebrow at her. “I was simply going to say that, even though I only briefly saw her, I believe she has your eyes.”

Severus didn’t answer. He hadn’t been able to get a proper look at her eyes either, but they would have been a sure tell. He got his own eyes from his mother, a midnight blue so dark it was almost black. It was a Prince feature. If this girl had Prince eyes, there was no doubt that she was his daughter.

“Isn’t this exciting!” a loud voice cut into their conversation and Severus had to withhold a glare. _Lockhart_. He glanced over at the man impassively. He couldn’t believe Albus had hired him as the Defence professor. He was utterly incompetent and would likely teach the children even less than Quirrell had, and Severus hadn’t thought that possible. “A mysterious student with the same last name as our dear Potions professor! And sorted into Hufflepuff too! I wonder how she convinced the hat to put her there?!”

“Convinced?” Severus frowned deeply at the man. “Miss Snape was sorted into Hufflepuff because she belonged there, just as the others are sorted, you fool.”

“Oh surely you don’t believe that,” the idiot man laughed boisterously. “There are some names that don’t belong in certain houses, and Snapes don’t belong in Hufflepuff.”

“Gilderoy,” Aurora glared. “This is one of those times when you should keep your opinions to yourself.”

“Is it ever not one of those times?” Severus muttered under his breath, wincing as Aurora elbowed him for the comment. He noticed that she didn’t correct his statement; the professors had already had to deal with Lockhart for weeks and he had managed to get on everyone’s bad side.

“I have to say I also expected the girl to be a Slytherin,” Aurora said. “However, she looks perfectly content with the Badgers.”

He finally allowed himself to look in her direction. She was sitting with her fellow first-year Hufflepuffs, smiling and chatting with a blond girl. And she did look happy.

“She does indeed,” he agreed. “Now, what do you know of this year’s Slytherins?”

Aurora had been a Slytherin a few years ahead of him and he always trusted her to fill in the blanks on his students. He knew most of them and tried his best to keep up, but he had other duties, and Aurora was only too happy to help.

“They’re a good bunch, I believe,” Aurora said. “Astoria Greengrass comes as no surprise, and neither do the Carrow twins. All three girls are known to get along well and should be no trouble. The last two girls appear calm; a muggleborn and a pureblood. The boys are a diverse bunch, three purebloods from minor families, three half-bloods with different backgrounds and another muggleborn I visited myself. He seems strong, shouldn’t have any issues adapting to our world, although I expect a little bit of homesickness from him. Honestly, I don’t think they’ll be problematic. I didn’t expect two muggleborns at once, but it should be okay.”

Severus nodded appreciatively; he quite agreed with her assessment. He’d observed the youngest snakelets at the beginning of the feast and they appeared to be getting along. He was glad; last year’s group had been a nightmare to deal with.

“You’ll come with me for their health check-ups?” he asked his colleague, knowing that she would indeed be accompanying him.

“Must you always ask? I’ve been helping you for years now, of course I’ll continue doing so,” Aurora huffed, helping herself to some pudding he was also tempted to try.

“I prefer to be certain,” he simply answered, giving in and grabbing a serving of the delicious-looking dish.

“Of course,” she snorted.

They both stopped talking as they savoured their dessert and thus overheard Lockhart’s conversation with Minerva.

“I haven’t seen young Harry yet,” he was saying. “Did something happen to him?”

Severus scanned the Gryffindor table and indeed, it looked like Potter and Weasley were absent. Foolish boys.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what happened to Mr Potter,” Minerva sighed. “He should have been here already, just as everyone else is.”

No doubt the boy was waiting to make a grand entrance.

“That boy never makes things easy for us,” Aurora groaned, earning herself a sharp look from Minerva. “Oh, don’t look at me like that Minerva, you know very well that I’m right.”

“Perhaps,” Minerva replied. “Nevertheless, I shall be heading out to see if anything has happened to my two cubs.”

“Really?” Severus smirked. “Then do let me accompany you, I’m sure we’ll find them faster together.”

* * *

The first year Slytherins were whispering to each other as they made their way to the dungeons. At the back of the group, Astoria stayed silent, unsure of how exactly she was supposed to approach her housemates.

It was stupid; she knew most of them. They had grown up together, gone to events together, they weren’t strangers. But Astoria had never considered any of them her friends. Her older sister had been lucky, hanging onto Theo like a lifeline; Astoria had never found someone she trusted that way.

Flora and Hestia were nice to talk to, but they tended to stick together, it was as though they lived in their own world and everyone else simply came along for the ride. Astoria didn’t mind them, but she wouldn’t consider them her friends.

The majority of the boys had gravitated towards each other, and the last one - a muggleborn, Astoria thought – had struck a conversation with the two girls she didn’t recognise.

She thought the last three students might have let her join their group, but she didn’t want to cause any undue awkwardness, and they looked like they were getting along just fine without her. They didn’t need her and wouldn’t want to deal with her social anxiety.

So she stayed behind them, silent, promising herself that she would talk to them the next day, when everyone had settled in.

They made it to the Slytherin common room relatively fast, and Astoria couldn’t help the small sigh of relief that escaped her as they stepped into the warm room; only a few minutes left before she could hide away under the covers of her bed.

“Snakelets,” a voice called out, grabbing the first-years’ attention. It belonged to a tall boy with sandy blond hair who beckoned them over. “Nice to meet you all. I won’t keep you here too long, but I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Felix Brunt, your sixth-year prefect. If you have any questions, try to find me or my female equivalent, Lexie, rather than the fifth or seventh-years. We’re less likely to be busy than them. Other than that, do try to behave, please, we lose enough house points because of the second-years, no need to add insult to injury.”

Astoria couldn’t help but snicker a little at that. Daphne had proudly announced that Slytherin would have won the house cup if it wasn’t for Dumbledore’s meddling, but apparently it wasn’t thanks to her or her year mates. She wondered how much the upper years had had to work to catch up on what the younger ones had lost. Enough for them to mention it, at least.

“Now go away,” Felix continued, gesturing towards a corridor further in the room. “Get to your dorms and get some sleep, you’ll need plenty of energy tomorrow.”

Astoria was only too happy to oblige, making her way to the first-year girls’ dorm as fast as possible.

It was nice enough, with pretty poster beds covered in Slytherin-green bedding. Their trunks were located at the end of each bed, and there were desks for all of them. The window displaying the lake was a bit much in Astoria’s opinion, but as long as she didn’t stare at it for too long, she should be okay.

“Hey, Greengrass,” someone called out from behind her.

The girl who had addressed her had dark red hair and green eyes, and Astoria was suddenly sure that they had already met.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” the red head smirked at her. “Scarlett Lympsham. I think I’ve seen you around a few times.”

“Y-yeah,” Astoria stuttered, immediately cursing herself for it. “I’m Astoria Greengrass.”

“I know,” Scarlett grinned. “Oh, and this is Nerissa Brody,” she added, pointing at the dark-haired girl she had been talking to earlier. Nerissa smiled at her and she forced her lips to respond in kind. Why was she so bloody _awkward_?

“Nice to meet you,” Nerissa said, and Astoria mumbled something similar in return, hoping this would be the end of their interaction; she really just wanted to sleep.

“So Greengrass, what do you think of the Victoria situation?” Scarlett continued, bringing up the Snape girl that Astoria had completely forgotten about.

“It’s so strange,” she answered seriously. “I’ve met Professor Snape before, when my parents made me tag along to events, and honestly, he doesn’t seem like the kind to have a daughter.”

“You’re talking about that girl with black hair everyone was staring at, right?” Nerissa asked, leaning against the bed closest to her, and Astoria nodded, her shyness briefly put to the side as she focused on the mystery of Victoria Snape.

“Yeah, our Head of House and potions professor is also called Snape, but no one has ever heard of him having a child,” Scarlett confirmed.

“Our Head of House?” Nerissa frowned. “Shouldn’t she be here with us, then?”

“I mean, children don’t always go into the same house as their parents,” Scarlett shrugged. “Mine were Ravenclaws and yet here I am. Victoria is a childhood friend of mine and I always assumed she had the same surname as her mother, but Snape or not, I can assure you that she belongs in Hufflepuff.”

“You know her?” Astoria asked, curious to know more about the girl.

“I do,” Scarlett shrugged. “Her mother didn’t bring her over very often, but we spent enough time together as children for me to know that she’s a good person and a loyal friend.”

“But not loyal enough to tell you her last name,” Nerissa pointed out.

“I don’t think that has anything to do with friendship,” Scarlett frowned. “It’s not like I ever told her my last name either. We were introduced to each other as Victoria and Scarlett, and we weren’t exactly close enough to delve into the topic of family history and scandals.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Nerissa said before yawning widely. “Right then, I’m knackered, so I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Astoria mumbled a distracted goodbye to her roommate but quickly turned back to Scarlett.

“Scandals?” she inquired softly. “Was her mother involved in some sketchy plot? Are there some dark secrets hidden beneath all that Hufflepuff enthusiasm? Do you _know_ those secrets?”

Scarlett stared at her for a few seconds before opening her mouth, snapping it shut and finally shaking her head slowly.

“I know more than you do,” the redhead answered carefully. “And there is _one_ secret I can tell you, Greengrass.”

Astoria leaned in closer, not wanting to miss a single word that the other girl had to say.

“Loyalty should _always_ go both ways.”

And with that, Scarlett walked away, leaving Astoria with nothing but her own thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and thanks to my sister/beta @fall27 for going over the chapter with me to make it as good as possible! The ending was going to be something else but she said it didn't feel right and I really love what I wrote instead (and hopefully you did too). Don't hesitate to leave a comment if you spotted a mistake or if you just enjoyed this! The next chapter should be out soon if all goes well; I start my second semester in a few days so I'm going to try to get it out before that. 
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	3. First Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> Another chapter with a lot of character-building; I have a few OCs who are going to make regular appearances (outside of Victoria, obviously) so I hope you like them! Chapter 3 will still be a little exposition-heavy but we'll get to the actual plot soon and hopefully these are still nice to read. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Victoria woke up feeling warmer than she had in years. She supposed the Hufflepuff dorms had been created that way, and to be honest, she wasn’t complaining. The rooms made her feel safe, gave her a strong sense of _home_ , and she couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face as she realised that she was truly here, in bed at _Hogwarts_ , about to start her first day of school.

The sun was only just rising, but she still got ready in record time, too excited to slow down. Her housemates were sleeping soundly as she tiptoed out of the dorm and into the common room where a few upper years were chatting or finishing summer homework. A dark-haired boy with kind eyes looked up as she walked in and started to smile, however, as his gaze met hers, his lips twisted into more of a grimace than anything.

She sighed and smiled back at him anyways.

She had sent a letter to her mother before going to sleep the previous night, and she didn’t know what she wanted the answer to say, didn’t know what she wanted to find. She had asked for a picture of her father, mentioning the professor who shared her name, but she was torn; afraid that it would be him and afraid that it wouldn’t.

She had always dreamed of meeting her father, of coming face to face with the man whom her mother had loved – maybe even still loved, though she would never say it out loud – but… A part of her was terrified that she would disappoint him, or worse, that he would reject her, that he would resent her for existing.

( _You’re not what I asked for_ )

The young Hufflepuff shook the thought away and brought her attention back to the common room, noticing an unoccupied armchair near a fireplace and happily making her way towards it.

Everything in the Sett - as a prefect had called the Hufflepuff common room and dorms - was overly comfortable, in the best way possible. Victoria grinned as she sunk into the armchair and grabbed a book from her school bag, settling in as she waited for her yearmates to join her.

Poppy and two other girls emerged half an hour later, looking slightly sleepy but as excited as she was. She closed her book and joined them, hoping to properly start the day now that she wasn’t alone anymore.

“Hi girls,” she greeted the three other first-years politely. “Ready for breakfast?”

They all mumbled a greeting back at her before following a group of older students who were leaving the common room – perfect timing, since she doubted any of them would have been able to find the Hall.

Breakfast was almost as grand as dinner the night before, and although Victoria wasn’t complaining, she did wonder how much the house elves had to work to get everything ready on time. She knew they liked being busy, but surely they needed rest as well, right?

Victoria huffed; she really did think about the strangest things sometimes. It was one of her biggest flaws: her thoughts strayed much too easily for her liking – and for everyone’s liking, really.

“This is so good,” the girl sitting next to her moaned through a mouthful of food, and while Victoria winced at the bad manners, she had to agree. She wondered if it was the magic in the air that made her like everything more or just that the elves here were truly better than those back home.

And there she went, thinking about the house elves again.

“Timetables, first years,” a voice announced, and Victoria looked around, finding the prefect who had taken them to the Sett after the feast – Ophelia, she thought her name was.

She stared down at the paper that had been placed in front of her and let out a sigh of relief; it seemed like they had plenty of free time.

“I wasn’t expecting this much leisure time,” Poppy admitted from her spot across the table and Victoria nodded. “Transfiguration with the Slytherins first thing after breakfast, how do you feel about that?”

“Eh,” Victoria shrugged. “Not the biggest fan of Transfiguration but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I hope so,” the blond said seriously. “Dad said that Professor McGonagall isn’t one to, um, suffer fools easily, I think that’s how he put it.”

“Maybe,” Victoria answered. “But mum said she was fair to all houses, so that’s good.”

“True,” Poppy agreed. “Do you know anyone in the other houses? In our year, I mean?”

The dark-haired girl glanced around the room at the now-full house tables, frowning as she tried to remember if any of her wizard acquaintances started Hogwarts this year.

“Oh!” she finally exclaimed, catching a glimpse of red hair at the Slytherin table. “Scarlett Lympsham, Slytherin. Our mothers went to school together, so we’ve met a few times.”

“That’s nice,” Poppy smiled, though Victoria could tell that it was a bit forced. So the girl _did_ have a few reservations about Slytherin, no matter how little she had reacted to the news of both her parents being in the house of snakes.

“Do you know anyone?” she asked, keeping her thoughts to herself. There was no need to call the other girl out when she was clearly trying to be polite.

“Not really,” Poppy replied. “I used to hang out with Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood - a Ravenclaw - when I was younger, but it was a long time ago.”

“Ah, the last Weasley of the lot,” Victoria smirked slightly. She couldn’t help it; she had nothing against the Weasleys, but their brood was truly legendary. “She’s the seventh child, isn’t she? Bound to be powerful, that one.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” the girl next to her suddenly interrupted and Victoria startled; she hadn’t even known she was listening. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s fine,” Victoria assured her – although yes, it was rude. “And Seven is a powerful number. There have been a few studies and most people born on the seventh of the month - or seventeenth, or twenty-seventh - have slightly more magic than the average witch or wizard. Being the seventh child isn’t something that happens often, but when it does, the person usually grows up to be quite magically powerful.”

“Really? That’s fascinating,” the girl gaped - muggleborn, Victoria assumed. “What about people born during the Seventh month?”

“The effects aren’t as pronounced, but people born in July and September do tend to have a little more magic,” Victoria explained, and she could see that even Poppy was listening intently. “The same applies to being born on the seventh full moon of the year; on a Sunday; during the seventh week of the year… You get the idea.”

“Yeah,” the girl murmured, clearly impressed.

In fact, all the first years at the table were staring at her; enough that she was starting to feel awkward. Smiling weakly, she muttered something about class and quickly left the Hall.

Victoria was by no means _shy,_ but it didn’t mean she wanted everyone to notice her. She’d rather fade in the background; have a few true friends and get good grades but be _normal_. She didn’t want to stand out, and yet there she was on the first day of classes, already attracting attention. She determinedly tried to forget about the short moment, walking towards her first class and hoping she wouldn’t get lost.

Luck was on her side, however, as she found a small group of Slytherins huddled together in a corridor outside what she guessed was the Transfiguration classroom.

Scarlett wasn’t with them, so Victoria wasn’t sure if they would appreciate her joining them, but a small girl with golden hair and beautiful ice blue eyes looked up at her then, and the dark-haired girl couldn’t resist the urge to walk over and introduce herself.

“Hello,” she said politely as she reached them.

Four pairs of eyes focused on her, curious and assessing, and maybe she regretted her decision a little bit.

“Hello,” the girl she had noticed greeted her back, smiling slightly. “I’m Astoria Greengrass, nice to meet you.”

“Oh, yes, nice to meet you too!” she blushed. “I’m Victoria Snape.”

“We know,” a taller boy with sandy hair smirked.

“Do ignore Theo,” another girl sighed, hitting the boy lightly. “I’m Daphne Greengrass, Astoria’s sister,” well that explained the uncanny resemblance. “This one over here is Blaise Zabini,” she pointed at a boy with aristocratic features and dark skin who tilted his head to acknowledge her. She nodded back. “And that idiot is - unfortunately - my best friend, Theodore Nott.”

Victoria froze. For a second, fear rushed through her body as she glanced back towards the sandy-haired boy. But no, he was just a _boy_ , he was harmless.

She plastered a smile onto her face.

“Great to meet you all,” she lied, hoping none of them would question her strange behaviour. “What year are you all in?”

“Second,” Daphne answered. “And we have Potions in a few minutes so we should really be off, wouldn’t want to get detention with Snape on the first day back.”

“What?” Victoria frowned, confused, before flushing hotly as she realised they were talking about Professor Snape, the Potions Master. Obviously. “Right.”

The three older students stared at her amusedly for a moment before snapping out of it and walking off towards the dungeons.

Silence hung heavy between Astoria and herself, their yearmates having not arrived yet.

Well, it seemed as though her new acquaintance wasn’t the chattiest of people; it was okay though, she was used to having to start conversations herself. Although, admittedly, not with people as proper looking as Astoria.

“Excited about Transfiguration?” she asked, inwardly grimacing at her attempt at small talk.

However, the other girl seemed relieved at her question; she clearly hadn’t been the only one bothered by the silence.

“I am, actually,” Astoria answered softly. Even her voice was pretty. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at it, but it’s always intrigued me.”

“Really?” Victoria raised an eyebrow. “It’s never interested me for some reason. I understand how useful it can be, but it feels a little like I’d be cheating if I could create anything. There’d be no challenge.”

“Well yes,” Astoria snorted, softness gone and amusement dancing in her eyes. “That’s the point. Magic _is_ cheating. Are you also going to avoid apparition because you’d rather do things the hard way and walk everywhere? What’s the point of having magic if we don’t use it to make our lives easier?”

“I see your point,” Victoria admitted, walking into the room that had just opened in front of them and taking a seat at a desk on the second row, Astoria sitting next to her. “But with Potions, for example, you have to make the potion carefully every time. I’m not saying Transfiguration is easy, far from it, but once you have it down, it only takes a second, no effort. I prefer knowing I worked for something.”

“What about Charms then?” Astoria asked, glancing towards the professor’s desk and frowning at the cat sitting there. The _cat_? Weird.

“Ugh, I don’t know,” Victoria groaned. “It’s just that Charms are so dependent on wand movement and having perfect pronunciation, and you can still mess it up years after learning it if you’re not careful. You have to be careful. Transfiguration is all about intent, from what I’ve read and heard, and that’s just like… like wishing for something and getting it.”

The classroom was starting to fill up, but Victoria ignored the other students, determined to make Astoria understand what she meant.

“Okay, I get what you’re saying,” Astoria continued. “I just don’t agree with your point of view. Anything that makes my life easier is a plus, even if it means I come across as lazy.”

Victoria huffed a laugh and mumbled “Typical Slytherin” under her breath, to which Astoria retorted with “Please, you sounded more Hufflepuff than anyone I’ve ever heard.”

The two girls giggled quietly, and Victoria’s heart swelled as a feeling of belonging she had never felt this strongly before enveloped her. She hoped Astoria didn’t mind her presence, because if she had anything to say about it, she would be spending a lot more time with the golden-haired girl.

Just then, the cat that had been sitting on the desk jumped off and turned into their professor. _Turned into their professor?! Why had her mother never mentioned that McGonagall was an Animagus?_

“Merlin’s pants,” she gasped. “Did you know about this?”

Astoria could only shake her head as she tried to compose herself; clearly, the transformation had impressed her as well.

“Good morning students,” the Gryffindor Head of House greeted them with a tight smile. “Welcome to your first Transfiguration lesson. I hope you all know that I will tolerate no nonsense in my classroom, you are here to learn and I will only be satisfied with your best efforts. But for now, there will be none of that, I don’t want to see a single wand before I ask you to take them out.”

And so started the longest theory lesson Victoria had ever had to sit through. The afternoons with her tutors suddenly appealed to her a lot more. They had two hours of the subject, but the first hour and a half was spent listening to the professor talk about laws and methods and people and – honestly, Victoria was sick of it.

She was amused to notice that even Astoria looked like she was seconds away from dozing off, though at least she was trying to take notes; Victoria had given up sometime at the beginning of the second hour.

Even the thirty minutes of practice they got at the end of the lesson couldn’t satisfy her as she failed to turn her needle into a matchstick over and over again. Astoria wasn’t doing much better though, so at least she wasn’t alone in her struggle.

Fear of angering the strict-looking professor has made them wary of speaking during the lesson, but as soon as they exited the room, Astoria wrinkled her nose and Victoria let out a soft groan. A snort of laughter coming from behind them made both girls startle.

“Well, look at you two,” the smooth voice said, and Victoria grinned when Scarlett appeared at her side. “One might almost think that you didn’t enjoy that riveting lesson; knowledge is invaluable, you know.”

“Oh please, Lympsham,” Astoria sniffed. “You spent a whole hour sleeping on Brody’s shoulder, I’d like to think you understand our frustration.”

“Perhaps,” Scarlett smirked. “I’m glad we got to practise at the end; I even managed to make my match look pointy and silvery.”

“How did you do that?!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “Mine didn’t even twitch! And neither did Astoria’s.”

Astoria sent her a betrayed look, but the dark-haired girl only shrugged unrepentantly, her lips twitching.

“Well, not everyone can be as naturally talented as me,” the redhead said dramatically. “I’ll be waiting for you to come running to me for advice in a few weeks.”

“Lympsham, is it?” a new voice piped up from next to Astoria. Scarlett nodded at the intruder. “I’d watch out if I were you.”

The boy, a Hufflepuff, not a Slytherin, smiled innocently and took an object out of his pocket. The silver needle seemed to mock all three girls as its owner giggled.

“After all,” he said easily. “Not everyone can be as naturally talented as me.”

Seeing the shocked looked on the two Slytherins’ faces, Victoria burst into laughter alongside her housemate. Maybe she should have felt offended by the eavesdropping, but their conversation hadn’t exactly been quiet or secretive.

“I’d be careful, girls,” Victoria said as innocently as her housemate. “Jealousy isn’t cute, you know.”

* * *

Victoria’s dark eyes were dancing with mirth, and the boy – whom Astoria had never met before – was doing a terrible job at concealing his smile. Scarlett’s eyebrows were raised, her smirk still firmly in place (of course this amused her).

“Oh my god,” Astoria gasped. “How are you two _Hufflepuffs_?”

“There’s a lot more to us than meets the eye,” Victoria said, waggling her eyebrows. “Besides, I was a hatstall, remember? The poor hat had no idea where to put me.”

“And how do you explain our darling little eavesdropper, then?” Scarlett asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing towards the blushing Hufflepuff. “I don’t remember there being a second hatstall.”

“I wasn’t,” the boy murmured, cheeks burning even brighter. “But, well, I think we all have a little bit of each house in ourselves. Besides, I have a cousin in Slytherin, so…”

“I think that… um, what’s your name?” Victoria asked, grimacing as the boy told her – he had obviously already introduced himself. “I think Rory’s right; houses are a fun way to encourage friendly competition, but at the end of the day we’re all just witches and wizards who want to succeed in life, aren’t we?”

“I mean…” Astoria frowned. “I get what you’re saying, but everyone always tells us that houses are your family. Are you saying you disagree?”

“I am,” her new friend said easily. “I think houses are a great way for people with terrible families to find a home, but I also think that family is something you get to _choose_. I’d rather stick with people my age who understand what I’m going through than older Hufflepuffs who see me as a nuisance.”

“Well, not that I don’t find this conversation fascinating,” Scarlett interrupted, gaining everyone’s attention. “But Greengrass and I have a class to get to, perhaps we could continue this debate at a later time?”

“Oh my god, Lympsham, Astronomy is at least three floors above here!” the blond girl exclaimed. “I’ll find you later, Victoria!”

With that, she grabbed Scarlett’s arm and started jogging towards the closest staircase.

As the two girls walked – ran – through the castle, Astoria let Victoria’s words wash over her. She had been told by so many people – her parents, her sister, her friends – that Slytherin would be her second family and that she should treat it as such. But the dark-haired Hufflepuff had a point: how many of them would she know? How many of them would she actually spend time with?

In the short time she had been at Hogwarts, the only people she had talked to were her sister, her sister’s friends, and her fellow first years – both Slytherins and Hufflepuffs.

She wouldn’t be sharing homework with the upper years, wouldn’t be whispering with them in class and cheating off of their work. Her fellow Slytherins would look out for her, but even then, wouldn’t it mostly be her year mates?

There had been something in Victoria’s dark eyes when she spoke about family; something that said that she would go above and beyond for those whom she considered close enough to her. And Astoria… Astoria loved her sister and Theo and Blaise, but she wanted her _own_ people, and she had a feeling that Victoria could give her exactly what she was looking for.

“Greengrass,” a voice hissed. She shook her head to dispel her thoughts and looked back towards Scarlett, who had been joined by Nerissa – when had _that_ happened? She must have been truly lost in her mind. “We’re barely on time, at least try to look apologetic when we walk in, please? It would do us some good to have your pretty eyes looking all sad and sorry.”

She nodded and tried to appear as lost and pitiful as she could as they stepped into the room. The teacher – Professor Sinistra – had been a Slytherin, so she thankfully just rolled her eyes and told them to hurry up before starting her lesson.

It wasn’t anything that Astoria didn’t know already, and she found herself daydreaming throughout most of the class – thinking about Victoria and her view of Hogwarts, about her sister and all the new people she would be meeting over the next month or so.

By the time they entered the Great Hall for lunch, she was fighting the beginnings of a migraine and the only person she could blame was herself. That would teach her to think about too many things at once; maybe she should have just listened to the professor instead of dealing with the many questions and doubts swirling in her mind.

Daphne was at the Slytherin table, chatting happily with Theo and Blaise, and Astoria started towards her automatically, stopping herself as soon as she realised where she was heading.

Nerissa and Scarlett had moved to join the other first years, and with Victoria’s words still fresh in her mind, the blond girl changed directions and took a seat with her year mates.

“Not going to go eat with your sister, Greengrass?” Nerissa asked, eyebrows raised. “And here I was thinking that you would take full advantage of having an older sibling to protect you from the dangers of life as a Slytherin.”

“I thought about it,” Astoria admitted, stealing a glance towards Daphne. “But someone told me earlier that my year mates would be my greatest allies, and who am I to pass up on such an opportunity?”

Across the table, Scarlett smirked.

“So you think Snape has a point?” the green-eyed girl inquired, trying to seem uninterested – and failing.

“You don’t?” Astoria retorted. “My sister may care about me, but she has other preoccupations. They all do.”

“We all have preoccupations, Greengrass,” Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Everyone will always have something going on in their life that has nothing to do with you, so tell me, will you only choose friends that treat you like the centre of the universe?”

“That’s not what I meant, Lympsham,” Astoria frowned at the other girl. “Of course we all have our problems, but don’t you think it’s easier to share them with people who are going through similar things? We won’t be able to help each other through everything, but when it comes to school and friendships and maybe even love later on? We’ll definitely be able to help each other through _that_.”

“So what, you want us to forget about the upper-years?” Nerissa interrupted, catching up to the topic of their conversation. “We’re less than 15 in our year, don’t you think we’ll get lonely?”

“I’m not saying that we should forget about them, they’ll probably be helpful with quite a few things,” Astoria explained. “And we’re less than 15 _Slytherins_ in our year. We’re almost 50 in total.”

“So… students from other houses?” Nerissa asked quietly. “Is that common? I was under the impression that the different houses didn’t really mingle.”

“Slytherins usually don’t,” Astoria said. “We stay away from everyone and everyone stays away from us. It’s a little bit more common for students between the other three houses, but… Look, it doesn’t matter. Just because the other years want to stay separate doesn’t mean that we have to. Our Hufflepuff classmates were perfectly nice this morning, and we have no reason to believe that the others are any different.”

“What do you want us to do though?” Scarlett sighed. “Force ourselves into the other houses’ friendships?”

“Of course not,” Astoria giggled. “Just give them a chance to prove that they’re good people, talk to them in class, treat them like normal human beings. Think you can do that?”

Apparently, she could.

Their first class of the afternoon was History with the Ravenclaws, and Scarlett smirked at Astoria as she sat next to a girl from the other house. She found it quite funny that all she had needed to do was _challenge_ her housemate. Nerissa rolled her eyes at Scarlett, but she took a seat in between two groups of Ravenclaws and Astoria could hear her introducing herself.

Happy that her friends were trying their best, Astoria sat next to a Slytherin boy and smiled when a pair of Ravenclaws ended up on her right.

Sometimes, the smallest effort was enough to bring about change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! You might have noticed that there weren't as many point of views in this chapter than in the last; I don't really have a specific number of perspectives in mind when I start writing, I just try to go with what feels right. Thank you to my beta and sister @fall27 for going over this story with me and helping me edit, everything flows a lot better thanks to her! 
> 
> I'm still writing daily and Chapter 3 is ready to be posted; it'll go up as soon as I finish Chapter 4! My uni semester has started but my schedule is very decent and my workload is quite light so far; I should be working on this fic every day for the next few weeks at least! 
> 
> Thank you for reading,  
> Love, Julie.
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	4. Father & Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> I'm honestly so excited about this chapter, it might have been my favourite one to write so far. The plot really gets going in chapter 4 but I enjoyed writing about Severus and Victoria's relationship, and hopefully you will too. There are only two different point of views this time, but I'll be switching back and forth!
> 
> I'm still working on this story daily, so the next chapter should be up next week (I haven't set a specific day, but there should be a new chapter every week-end). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Good morning, Severus,” Minerva greeted the dark-haired man as she took her seat next to him at the Head Table.

The potions master grunted out an answer, determined to finish his breakfast in peace. The first day of classes had been as terrible as always, with students too excited to focus, excuses made to explain a lack of homework, and this year, the infuriating questions about a certain Hufflepuff.

“Well, this is new,” Aurora said, nudging Severus and not even blinking when he glared at her, gesturing towards the Slytherin table instead.

He didn’t know all of his first years yet, so it took him more than a passing glance to realise what was wrong. In between a fair-haired girl – a Greengrass, he thought – and one of the muggleborn students, a girl with dark hair and yellow-piped robes sat, looking perfectly content.

And she wasn’t alone. There were two other Hufflepuff students with her, chatting enthusiastically with a red-haired Slytherin.

“Would you look at that, Severus!” his least-favourite colleague exclaimed cheerfully. “Only two days into term and that girl of yours is already causing mischief and breaking rules!”

Severus glared at Lockhart before turning back towards Aurora.

“Is there a rule against eating at other houses’ tables?” he asked. “I’ve never heard of one.”

“Of course there isn’t,” Minerva scoffed. “Ignore Gilderoy, Miss Snape isn’t doing anything wrong, and neither are her housemates. Students may eat with whoever they wish to outside of feasts.”

Severus nodded to indicate that he had heard her, but his eyes were glued to the Slytherin table. Most of his students were ignoring the large group, but the second years were – as always – the exception. Greengrass, Nott and Zabini had taken the seats closest to the first years and were clearly the only reason why Malfoy hadn’t approached the youngest snakes and badgers.

“Whether it’s against the rules or not, you have to admit that it’s an odd sight,” Aurora shrugged.

It really was.

Severus had been the Head of Slytherin house ever since he had started teaching, and his students had a certain… reputation. Hufflepuffs were usually respectful, but even they didn’t approach his snakes. He didn’t know if it was because they feared Slytherins or because they feared their own housemates’ reactions, but interhouse friendships with the green and silver students were almost non-existent.

“I think it’s quite nice,” Aurora murmured. “Our snakelets don’t deserve to be thrown away by the rest of the school, and if it takes a bunch of Hufflepuffs to change that, then who are we to complain?”

She pointedly didn’t mention the part that intrigued Severus the most, the girl with dark eyes who looked happier than he ever remembered being. An owl had gently placed a letter next to her plate and he was surprised when she briefly glanced his way before tucking the envelope into her school bag.

She was still too far away for him to see her eyes clearly.

It was incredibly frustrating, not knowing whether she was a coincidence or a well-kept secret. If she really was his… his _daughter_ , things would get messy very fast, both inside of the school and outside of it – because it would mean that at least two people had kept his child away from him.

“Have you ever met her before?” Minerva interrupted his thoughts softly. Her eyes were fixed on the dark-haired Hufflepuff.

“I haven’t,” he replied just as quietly. “I’ve never even heard of her. I don’t know who she is, where she’s from, or who her parents are.”

His colleague hummed, clearly unsurprised by his answer.

“And if she’s yours?” she continued.

Bright eyes and laughter and his first years looking happier than any of his other Slytherins. Yellow piping and dark hair and a name after his own.

“I don’t know, Minerva,” he sighed. “I don’t know.”

* * *

The letter in Victoria’s pocket was trying to burn through her robes, she was sure of it. Her fingers were itching to retrieve it, her hands clenching and unclenching to stop herself from opening it in front of her classmates. She wanted to be alone when she read her mother’s words.

She had wanted to discreetly disappear during their free period after lunch, but Astoria had dragged their small group outside, bringing along a few Ravenclaws that they had befriended during their joint classes. It had been a nice, relaxing hour, but Victoria had been decidedly distracted.

Her new friends were kind enough not to mention anything, but Scarlett had been sending her worried looks – they weren’t extremely close, but they knew more about each other’s family lives than anyone else in their group.

Now, here she was, fidgeting and trying to take notes as their ghost – _ghost_ – professor droned on about a goblin war that she couldn’t care less about. Thankfully, it seemed like no one was really listening; some of the Gryffindors were napping at the back of the room, and her dormmates were giggling quietly behind her. Rory was doodling next to her, not even pretending to pay attention.

When the class ended, Victoria quickly told her friends something about wanting to get started on homework and hurried towards the common room. A few upper-years glanced at her when she entered but they left her alone, and she gratefully made her way to the first-year dorm.

The envelope was ripped open and thrown away onto her bed as her eyes scanned over her mother’s messy handwriting – she couldn’t look at the photo yet, she _couldn’t._

_Victoria,_

_Hufflepuff, really? I can’t say that I’m completely surprised, but I thought that you had just as much of a chance of getting into Slytherin. Ah, well, perhaps it was just wishful thinking. I am proud of you no matter what; I’m sure that you will be a model student, snake or not._

_What do you think of Hogwarts? Does it live up to your expectations?_

Victoria sighed frustratedly; her mother was stalling, and it _showed_. She skimmed over the next paragraph, which was full of empty platitudes, and skipped straight to the part that she really wanted to read. The photo was still facing down on her bed.

_A professor Snape, you say? That doesn’t sound like ~~my~~ Severus at all, but I’m sure that you already told yourself that. I sent you a picture of your father, as you asked, and I hope you know that I’m sorry that I never shared it before. If your professor does happen to be Severus, might I suggest staying away? _

_I know that I always told you that your father was a good man, but he’s also a powerful wizard who could resent you for being kept away from him. He might not even believe that you’re his daughter. I don’t want you getting hurt, Victoria. I’ve done my best to keep you away from the media and the pureblood speculations, but it will all be for nothing if you jump into this situation headfirst._

_I don’t want to alienate you from your father, but… I just want you to be safe._

_Be careful my Victoria,_

_M._

Anger rushed through her body, burning and ice-cold, ready to lash out. Her magic was sparking at her fingertips, wanting to be let out, to _hurt and break_. She reined it in tightly, her nails digging into the palm of her free hand so hard it hurt.

Victoria uncurled her right fist and ignored her trembling digits, reaching for the photograph.

She had always respected her mother’s feelings when it came to her father. The woman clearly hadn’t wanted to talk about him much, had wanted him to be nothing more than a distant memory, and she had _respected_ that. She hadn’t asked questions, hadn’t pushed for details, had always accepted that it was the way things were meant to be.

She breathed in deeply. She wanted it to be the professor; she wanted it to be a stranger; she wanted to rip it apart but treasure it forever. Her eyes had closed of their own volition, but she pried them open to look at her father.

Dark eyes, just like hers. Dark hair, as glossy as her own. Fair skin, fairer than her already pale tones. A hooked nose, long fingers, black robes. A smile, crooked – always crooked when they were truly happy. He was tall and elegant, and he was her _father_.

Her vision was blurry and there were tears on the picture now, and _she_ knew what _he_ looked like. And _he_ knew what _she_ looked like.

She wanted to run to the dungeons and ask him if he knew, if he had guessed, if he cared. Her father was here, in the same school as her, and she would finally hear his voice.

She had always respected her mother’s feelings, but this time, she was asking for _too much_. Her mother wasn’t a _bad_ person, but she was the truest Slytherin that Victoria had ever met. It had taken her years to realise that even as the woman’s daughter, she would always come second to the woman herself.

Her father wouldn’t resent Victoria for being kept away from him; he would resent her mother. He would never hurt her within Hogwarts, and she would make _sure_ that he believed her, she would repeat it a million times if she had to. She didn’t care what anyone else thought, not her housemates or the other professors or the press. She didn’t _care_.

She was suddenly exhausted; her body catching up to her state of mental disarray. Her magic was still restless, but it could clearly feel her lack of energy. She had been running on nervousness ever since she had received the letter, letting her emotions and her power build up as she lost herself in her professors’ meaningless lectures, and now that the waiting was over, she was just… tired.

Angry and frustrated and nervous and excited and relieved and afraid, but mostly just tired.

She didn’t want to answer her mother, didn’t want to leave her dorm to find her friends; her bed was looking increasingly inviting and no one was there to stop her. She didn’t even change out of her school robes; the only thing she did before falling asleep was place the precious photo into her bedside table carefully.

Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Professor, was her father.

She sunk into her dreams with a smile on her face.

* * *

The girl hadn’t been at dinner the night before. Her Slytherin friends had eaten at the Hufflepuff table with the rest of their group, but she had never turned up.

Pomona had also noticed, obviously, and had promised him that she would check on her. He shouldn’t have cared, but he had to admit that something in him had eased at her words. His fellow Head of House also took her badgers to the infirmary at the beginning of the year, so he knew that skipping meals or not, the girl would be taken care of.

The worry for her hadn’t disappeared completely, however, and it took him longer to fall asleep that night than it usually did. How _ridiculous_ that he was losing sleep over someone whose name he couldn’t even say in his head.

She was at the Slytherin table in the morning, smiling and talking animatedly as she had been doing the day before. He was glad to notice that she looked fine, unharmed and well-rested. She had probably just been tired, as Pomona had told him – he trusted the herbology professor, but he trusted his eyes more.

He had already finished his breakfast, for once eager to start his first lecture of the day, but his gaze lingered, his body unable to leave just yet. He wondered if she was talented in his art, he wondered if he would finally be able to see her eyes up close, he wondered if she would talk to him. He hadn’t felt so alive in years, not since the woman he had loved had left him; not since his best friend had died and he had been left alone.

He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, but it had happened anyways. She had his name and his complexion and his colouring, and he wanted nothing more than for her to be his daughter.

He tore his eyes away from the group of first-years and stood up, nodding to his colleagues as he headed towards his classroom. He needed a minute or two to collect himself before facing his newest students.

_Miss Snape. Miss Snape. Miss Snape. Victoria Snape._

A muggle name for a magical girl. He remembered how hard it had been for him, to live with his father’s name. Would it be the same for her? Would she suffer from bearing the name of the most hated professor in Hogwarts? Would she hate him for it? He didn’t think she would, and he would make sure that no one bothered or bullied her for something she couldn’t control.

His classroom was as spotless as ever, and he tried not to let the thoughts of a certain dark-haired girl distract him from his usual pre-class preparations. He checked over ingredients and stations and instructions, making sure that everything was where it was supposed to be.

Once he had finished his inspection, he let his mind wander again, knowing that the students’ natural loudness would alert him of their arrival.

Was it normal for him to only feel a giddy sense of anticipation? He wondered if his colleagues would have reacted the same way. Should he have approached her earlier? He hadn’t wanted to scare her, to ask unwanted questions, but had that been a mistake? Should he stay away completely? Shouldn’t she have already come to him if she wanted to know him? If he was her father?

His occlumency had been mostly torn apart by the constant questions about her that floated in his head. His older Slytherin students had even told him that he seemed… lighter than he had in previous years, and that they were happy to see him more content.

He had thanked them as coolly as possible, reminding them that they should mind their own business but appreciating their words. He hadn’t denied it; how _could_ he have denied it? Anxiety still gnawed at him, his logic trying to tell him that she might not be his daughter, but after seeing her and hearing about her, his magic was pulling him towards the girl and his instincts were screaming at him. _She’s yours_ , they said. He had never ignored them before, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Not when he might finally have a family.

The sound of chatter pulled him away from that dangerous line of thought and back to the present. He would usually make a dramatic and terrifying entrance once all the students were seated, but that wasn’t the kind of impression he wanted to make in front of a girl who was quite likely his daughter.

(He wasn’t sure why he had wanted to make that impression on anyone. He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about the many defence mechanisms he had put in place to avoid getting attached and therefore _hurt_.)

Instead, he waved the door open with a casual flick of his wrist and settled at his desk, looking just as serious as he always did – he _had_ to be serious and firm to make sure that his students knew not to mess around in his class – but perhaps a little less intimidating than what many upper-years had gotten used to.

Slowly, the class trickled in, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs mingling and partnering with members of the opposite house. Severus wasn’t really surprised – he had seen it happening in corridors and heard about it from his fellow professors – but it would probably take him longer to remember which student belonged to which house.

“Good morning,” he greeted them once everyone had taken a seat and quieted down. He shut the door with a slight bang and smirked amusedly at their little jumps – he wondered if they had heard horror stories about his lessons.

His speech was the same as always; he wanted his students to be warned about the dangers of potion-making but also intrigued by all the things it could do. He knew that some students were put off by his cold words and barbed insults, but he also knew that he had helped some of the country’s rising potioneers discover their love for the subject, and a few failures couldn’t erase those accomplishments.

The first-years were listening carefully, and he was glad to notice that _she_ looked eager to start learning. She was sitting at the front row, a piece of parchment and a quill ready to be used. Her partner was a smart-looking Ravenclaw who looked almost as excited as her, and Severus could only hope that they would work well together.

He called their names out and didn’t even stutter when he reached “Snape, Victoria,” although he did pause slightly when she answered.

He had stopped in front of her desk for a second, just a second, before moving on.

He reached the end of his list and started his lecture, going over the basic theory almost instinctively. His mouth was moving on autopilot, having done this dozens of times before. The students were quiet, focused, a good group. He was glad. So glad.

_So glad_.

Her eyes had looked up at him as he had paused, and they were a deep Prince blue.

* * *

He taught and treated the subject like the art that it was. His words were reverent in a way that her mothers’ had never been. He spoke about potions as magic, not dismissing it like so many others did – even her mother, on occasion – and she was entranced.

Even before she had known that it was in her genes, she had adored potions; had blabbered on about ingredients as soon as she had been able to read, had practised with fake cauldrons and herbs before stealing her mother’s wand and going behind her back to brew by herself. She had taken more risks for the subject than she had for anything else, and she had payed the price for it, but never regretted her actions.

Now, here was the man who had given her life, looking at them and trying to share his knowledge and passion. She listened to him greedily, taking notes even when she already knew what he was talking about, containing a squeal when he announced that they would be brewing as soon as he had gone over the theory and the safety instructions.

“Please try to brew something decent,” he finally announced, narrowing his eyes at a pair of giggling girls. “And _don’t_ blow yourselves up. I have an impeccable record to keep.”

She was out of her seat a second later, almost skipping to the storage room in her haste to start _actually_ working. Thankfully, her classmates were all calm and civil, and she managed to get everything her partner and her would need surprisingly quickly.

“So, um, do you know how to do this?” the Ravenclaw boy asked as she sat back next to him. “I’ve never… I’m a muggleborn, and theory is nice, but I’m not sure…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she answered quietly, grinning. “This stuff is in my blood.”

He didn’t seem completely convinced, but she quickly set him to work on chopping ingredients before he started thinking too much.

After that, she lost herself in the familiar motions, letting her partner do most of the preparation but taking care of the brewing herself, whispering explanations to him whenever he asked but enjoying the overall silent atmosphere. They finished earlier than most pairs and she tried not to look too proud of herself: their potion was the perfect shade of teal green.

“How did you even do that?” her partner – Tyler, she thought – murmured, eyes slightly wide. “I didn’t even know what you were doing half of the time.”

“Sorry about that,” she shrugged. “I’ve been sneaking behind my mother’s back since I was 8 to practise my brewing techniques. You’ll learn most of these things eventually.”

He still looked a little bit starstruck, but she didn’t pay attention to him, bottling the bubbling liquid carefully and writing their names on the vials neatly. She would have started cleaning their cauldron and counter, but their classmates were only just starting to add the last ingredients and she didn’t want to get up all by herself.

Instead, she glanced at their professor – her _father_ – and wondered if he would be proud of her work and of everything she had done to get to her current level. Would he even notice?

He was correcting student essays – probably summer homework – but he had been looking at her earlier, and she desperately wanted to speak to him. After an hour of almost mindless brewing, she finally let herself think about what she was going to do next.

She had heard stories about Professor Snape from older Hufflepuff students during meals, but she was finding it hard to reconcile their cruel depictions of the man with the person she was seeing in front of her. He hadn’t seemed especially open or kind or warm, but he had been fair and had even trusted them enough to let them brew during their first class.

The parchments in front of him were certainly covered in red ink, but could a professor be blamed for doing his job? And if students blew up their creations or messed around when volatile brewing was happening, could he be blamed for trying to impress upon them the importance of seriousness and vigilance?

Perhaps she was biased, perhaps her latest discovery was making her hope for the best, but she didn’t think he was a terrible teacher. She didn’t think he would coddle his students and shower them with false praise, but she also didn’t think that he was a sadist who thrived on seeing people falter and fail.

He was human. And he was her father.

She would forgive a lot of things if it meant that she got to keep him in her life. As long as he cared about _her_ , well… There was a reason she had almost been a Slytherin.

The point was, no matter what others thought, she wanted to at least _try_ to get close to the man. And that started with a simple yet terrifying conversation. She couldn’t see him after class since she had to get to her Astronomy lesson, but maybe if she stopped by his office after her lunch period… She didn’t have access to his schedule, but what did she have to lose?

Astronomy, lunch, and then, hopefully, a discussion with her father. She had to stop herself from smiling at the man as she handed her potion in.

* * *

After an impossibly long morning, Severus had been ready to head to his quarters for a well-deserved lunch when someone knocked at his office door. He sighed deeply and hesitated – he could just ignore the student, the colleague, or whoever wanted to disturb his only free period – but ultimately decided that it couldn’t hurt to open the door and tell the person on the other side to come back later.

He was about to say just that when it registered: dark hair and darker, galaxy-coloured eyes; yellow-piped robes and a careful smile.

“Sorry,” the girl said softly. “Astoria told me that your office hours were in the evening, but I thought… I needed to…”

She cut herself off, lacing her fingers together and looking away.

“It’s… okay,” he replied just as quietly. She had come without being asked, she had come to see him. Did that mean what he thought it meant or was he being too optimistic? “Come in, Miss… Snape.”

She complied, although she was still fidgeting and glancing around his office in an obvious effort to avoid his eyes. She stayed silent, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly. He raised an eyebrow and waited, walking past her to sit at his desk.

He never got to take a seat.

“You’re my father,” she blurted out, finally looking at him. “I don’t know if it sounds crazy, or if you suspected, or if you knew even before I came here, but you’re my father, and I’m your daughter, and I wanted to at least _tell you_ because you should know. You should have known all along, but mum… I’m not sure why she never told you, but she didn’t, and she didn’t want me to look for you, and I didn’t, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but now I’m here, and I really want to know you, and I hope you do too, because I’ve been dreaming about meeting you since… Forever, really.”

He was frozen.

His daughter, standing in front of him. He had a daughter, a beautiful girl with his eyes, and she was standing in front of him. She was here, his _family_ , everything he had dreamed of having, and she was _real_.

He didn’t know what to say, barely even knew what to think. He wanted to know her, of course he did, and here she was, telling him that she wanted the same thing. He had thought that he would never feel love again, but looking at this girl, he realised that he might have been wrong.

The defences around his heart were crumbling, melting away, and he knew that there were tears in his eyes, but he didn’t care.

She was three steps away, and he closed the distance as fast as he could, enveloping her in his arms delicately. She returned his embrace seconds later, holding on tight, her small hands clutching at his robes.

He cried into her hair. He cried for the years he had lost and he cried for the girl who grew up without a father; he cried because he wanted this moment to last forever and he cried because he didn’t know what else to do, what to say. She was shaking silently as well, and he pulled her a little closer to him before releasing her and stepping away.

“Victoria,” he finally whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry.”

She was shaking her head, wiping away her tears clumsily and frowning at his words.

“You didn’t know,” she said. “There was nothing you could have done. I’m sorry mum kept you away. Does… Does this mean that you want to know me too?”

“Oh, Victoria,” he chuckled. “Of course I want to know you. I’ve already missed eleven years of your life, why on earth would I want to miss a _moment_ more?”

She smiled weakly, her eyes full of hope, and he wondered if he looked the same. He made sure to get rid of any tear tracks on both of their faces with a flick of his wand and gestured to his desk.

“I don’t have much time, and I suppose you don’t either,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll find a convenient time to _really_ talk, but in the meantime, I can offer you forty-five minutes of my day.”

Her smile widened as they settled down. Two cups of tea appeared in front of them and she thanked him quietly.

“So, what do you want to know?” she asked, fidgeting once again – he used to have the same nervous habit as a child.

What did he want to know?

“Everything,” he answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to my amazing sister and beta @fall27, for helping me edit this story. I'm liking it more and more as I write, and I hope it'll stay this way. Chapter 4 is ready to be posted, it'll be up as soon as I've written chapter 5. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked this chapter, and don't hesitate to comment! 
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	5. Life at Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> So I've been struggling a bit more with the next chapter (I only just finished it) but I still wanted to get this one up before the end of the week! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, we meet some new characters and get quite a few point of views!

Felicity had been dreaming about Hogwarts ever since her father had told her about the beautiful school. She had drawn its towers and the depths of its lake, tried to imagine its professors and its students, and now that she was finally _there_ , she didn’t know what to think.

It was the first Friday of the school year, and she was stuck in a late-afternoon defence class, wondering – once again – how a man like _Lockhart_ had managed to get a position as a staff member.

She had already had a class with him earlier in the week, and had thought that his quiz about _himself_ might have been a joke, but here they were a few days later, and the “professor” was still as useless as he had been the first time. He talked about his books and his exploits and all the amazing things that he had done in his life, but he had yet to actually _teach_ them anything.

The brunette witch had stopped listening to him and taking notes, deciding that if he was going to indulge in his favourite activity – hearing himself talk – then she might as well do the same thing.

She had discreetly put away her quill, grabbed a very nice pencil and her sketchbook – a going-away gift, courtesy of her mother – from her bag, and had started drawing. The girl sleeping next to her had been her first victim, but she had quickly moved on to the boys in front of her who were busy making paper airplanes and trying to get them to fly. She had even attempted to depict Lockhart and her other professors now that she had met them in person.

Luckily, her seat near the back of the classroom offered her a lot of leeway; Lockhart barely even glanced in her direction, preferring to dazzle the gaggle of enamoured girls sitting in the front row. It was a farce of a lesson, and Felicity knew that she wasn’t the only one mourning for the class that they _could_ have had if only their professor was a little bit better.

Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be, and there were still thirty minutes left before the end of the school day – and of their first week; she couldn’t believe that it was already over. She was starting to run out of inspiration; her hand was tired, her vision was blurring from boredom and exhaustion, and her neighbour was too busy _napping_ to entertain her.

She was about to join the girl in the land of dreams when her attention was caught by a flash of red.

After only five days of classes and thanks to an initiative started by Victoria Snape and Astoria Greengrass, the first-years tended to mingle and interact no matter what house they were from. The older students weren’t sure what to make of them, but no one was getting hurt, so they were mostly left alone.

Ginny Weasley, however, was an oddity. Roommate or not, no one had managed to get close to the girl. She had dark circles under her eyes and startled at the slightest sound or movement, and she just _didn’t speak_. Felicity didn’t know if she was homesick or overwhelmed or ill, but something was wrong, and nobody was helping her.

The older Weasleys didn’t hang out with their sister, and the professors were too busy to truly pay attention to any of them. Snape and Sprout both made sure that their students attended a mandatory health check, but McGonagall didn’t have such a system in place, which meant that Ginny remained alone and – from the looks of it – suffering.

The problem was, Felicity didn’t know what to do. None of her classmates knew what to do; they were too young and inexperienced to understand what was going on with the girl. Was it a mental health issue? Was it her magic? The point was that they didn’t _know,_ and it bothered quite a few of them.

Talking to her didn’t work, eating with her didn’t change anything, suggesting a trip to the infirmary resulted in a glare aimed their way… They had started to lose hope.

Ginny was sitting alone, as always, and from her own position, Felicity could see that she was writing in a small notebook. It didn’t look like she was taking notes – she never participated, never raised her hand, Felicity didn’t think the girl even listened during their lessons – but she was definitely writing _something_.

However, what really caught Felicity’s eye was the expression on Ginny’s face: the girl was _smiling_. It was a small thing, the barest upwards tilt of her lips, but there was no mistaking it for anything else. Whatever the notebook in front of her contained, it was enough to make the most miserable first-year smile, and Felicity didn’t know whether she was relieved or worried about that fact.

It would be hypocritical of her to dismiss the importance of paper; after all, was she not doing something similar to her classmate? Did she not also grin to herself when she managed to draw a particularly nice piece of art? But… Even she made friends and spoke with the other students, looking up from her sketchbook to enjoy the pleasures of being at Hogwarts. Ginny didn’t seem to be enjoying _anything_ in the real world, so her interest towards the notebook made Felicity’s older-sister instincts flare up.

Her hands began to draw the redhead of their own accord, lines appearing to recreate the image of a withdrawn girl with the slightest smile on her face, shadows obscuring everything around her. It was mildly unsettling to see her own thoughts reflected on paper, but Felicity had to admit that it represented Ginny quite well. If only there was a way to get rid of those shadows.

Sadly, erasers for the real world didn’t exist.

Lockhart announced that the class was over, Felicity put away her sketchbook, and by the time she looked up, Ginny had disappeared.

* * *

Dinner that Friday had been a wild affair; they had decided to eat at the Slytherin table, giggling as they all tried to fit on the bench and finally splitting up and sending half of their numbers to the Ravenclaw table.

Astoria was delighted to notice that Victoria’s mentality had spread to the majority of their yearmates; after noticing how often the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins shared a table, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors had tentatively approached them during classes or in the library, and now small groups were forming with students from every house.

The older students sometimes looked at them oddly, but no one was getting hurt, so there was nothing they could do about it. At the end of the day, Victoria had been right; being in different houses didn’t mean they couldn’t get along, in fact Astoria thought that the dark-haired Hufflepuff might be her favourite person in the castle – her sister excluded – and she had seen her dormmates open up to a few Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and even a Gryffindor or two. She wondered why none of the upper-years realised that they were just missing out on friendships by refusing to hang out with other houses.

She was in the common room now, waiting for Snape to take them to their health check-up. Her yearmates were lazing around, playing chess, whispering amongst themselves, and she made a mental note to stay away from Scarlett and Nerissa in the coming days – they had a wicked gleam in their eyes that only appeared when they were up to something, most of the time alongside Rory.

She could tell that they were all tired; she was too. She understood the importance of the check-ups: it was a way to make sure that the muggleborns got their shots, that no one was suffering from anxiety or mental health issues, but also – and she knew that it was the main reason why the check-up had been put in place – to make sure that none of the children were being mistreated by their family.

She wondered if any of her housemates would disappear for the night; had any of them seemed tight-lipped about their parents? She realised that she didn’t really know how to notice if someone was suffering internally.

Externally, however…

Her mind drifted towards the Weasley girl. The first-years were all growing more and more concerned as the days passed; she still hadn’t spoken to anyone. Maybe she could bring the subject up with Madam Pomfrey, surely the matron would know what to do.

“First-years,” Snape’s silky voice called out, breaking Astoria out of her thoughts. “With me.”

They were quiet as they walked through the school. It was strange, being out at night, and she knew that they were all trying to forget about what might happen soon. Were any of them dreading the exam? Thinking about excuses to explain bruises? Making up stories about their family?

Scarlett and Nerissa were standing close together, and Astoria knew that the redhead would be telling their friend about the shots and explaining the basics of wizarding medicine. Two boys were doing the same with their other muggleborn housemate, but everyone else was relatively silent. The atmosphere was heavy and tense, and Astoria hated it.

She had felt secure over the last few days, happy to make friends and socialise with Victoria’s help, but suddenly she felt useless and alone, and everything was too big and small at the same time. What if she hadn’t noticed one of her friend’s abuse? What if they hated her? What if the peace they had found broke once they realised that Astoria had no idea what she was doing? What if Victoria found out about her anxiety and thought that she was strange?

She didn’t think she was breathing properly anymore, and her vision was blurry – was she crying? – but she didn’t want anyone to notice. She stayed behind, trying to will her tears away – they stayed, stubbornly streaming down her cheeks – and hid at the back of the group as they entered the infirmary.

It was white – too white – and Snape was looking at them now, talking to them, gesturing towards the beds, but she couldn’t hear him, couldn’t focus on anything other than the relentless questions in her brain and her heart beating too fast and the air coming in too slow and everyone leaving and everyone looking and Victoria hating her because she was too shy, too awkward, she didn’t know what to do and -

“Miss Greengrass,” a voice murmured gently.

There were hands on her shoulders and when she looked up, she saw concern in those dark eyes – they were a dark blue, just like Victoria’s – and the sight of them made her relax. 

“You have the same eyes,” she said softly, blushing but not looking away. Those eyes screamed safety and they made her breathe again and she didn’t want to look away.

Something like pride and fondness and happiness and love shone in the depths of his gaze for a moment before they went back to their usual blankness – and worry, just a tinge of worry.

“We do,” he agreed. “Now, can you get to a bed? I’ll be around to speak to you about this and anything else we might find as soon as your check-up is done.”

She nodded and sat on one of the empty beds, staring at the wall and wondering if she would ever stop having anxiety attacks.

She thought about it for a minute, and then she took her father’s advice and cleared her mind, trying to forget about all of her problems. She didn’t hear Madam Pomfrey arrive and didn’t see the scan happen, and her Head of House had to shake her shoulder lightly to get her to open her eyes and leave the blissful emptiness in her head.

“So, Miss Greengrass,” the professor said, as impassive as ever. “Your physical exam shows that you are in perfect shape physically, which is very good, however we both know that our body is only a part of us. Do you think you could talk about what happened earlier?”

A few years ago, she would have refused. She had protested when her parents had insisted on her seeing a mind healer, saying that she was _fine,_ that she didn’t need help, that she wasn’t broken, but now she couldn’t imagine her life without Eleanor. Eleanor always told her that it was okay not to be fine, and that getting help wasn’t a sign of weakness, and if Eleanor was here, she would encourage her to talk to Snape. So she did.

“Anxiety attacks,” she answered quietly. “I’ve had them since I was seven or eight. I have a Healer at home, and if I get too many in a row, I usually take potions, but it’s not too severe; I’m mostly bad with strangers and unexpected situations. I guess I just got lost in my thoughts and doubts, and everything I’ve been trying to ignore since I arrived here. Eleanor would kill me if she knew that I’d stopped meditating.”

The professor nodded but didn’t look at her pityingly, didn’t laugh or mock her or try to tell her that it would all get better soon. They both knew that anxiety didn’t work that way.

“All right,” he said instead. “I’m glad you told me. I’ll make sure that Madam Pomfrey has your potions available should you need them, and if you can, try to start meditating every day again, especially if it’s what your Healer usually has you do. And if you ever need anything or feel overwhelmed, don’t hesitate to come to me or to step out of class; I’ll make sure that you are not disciplined for something that you cannot control.”

He waited for her to show that she had understood and then gave her a slight smile.

“I do not want to tell you what to do with your own secrets and problems,” he continued. “But if you ever feel like you need to tell someone about it, I’m sure your friends would not judge you.”

And then he moved on to the next student, leaving her feeling warm and content and thinking that maybe her new best friend wouldn’t care that she had anxiety. Her lips twitched a little; of course Victoria wouldn’t care, she was _Victoria_.

Sometimes, she wished her mind had a quick chat with her logic before making her freak out about problems that didn’t exist.

* * *

This was insane. He shouldn’t be here, he couldn’t be doing this, what was he _thinking_? What would his _parents_ think? He didn’t know what had overcome him; why had he thought that he would be good at this? They were going to get caught and he would be expelled, and all of his hard work would be for nothing!

“I told you he’d back out,” Scarlett whispered.

Rory’s head snapped up and he glared at the smirking girl. Nerissa was trying not to laugh, and he had to admit that he _had_ been thinking about backing out, but only because he had never done anything like this before.

When the two girls had approached him about being a part of something amazing, he had been unable to resist, and when they had told him that they were thinking about pranking the Gryffindors in retribution for the Weasley twins’ pranks, well…

The thing was, they had only been at Hogwarts for six days, but the Weasley twins had already lived up to everything Rory had heard about them. However, what he _hadn’t_ known was that they were particularly aggressive in their pranks when it came to Slytherins. He got it, really, most of the green and silver students were a pain, but three of their Slytherin yearmates had gotten caught up in a particularly nasty prank – they weren’t badly hurt, but Rory knew that it bothered them more than they had let on – and _they_ didn’t deserve it.

The first-years stayed out of all the older students’ way and lived their own life, so he couldn’t understand why the twins hadn’t tried to spare them. Jason, a Slytherin whom Rory got along well with, had obviously been – inwardly – hurt by the prank, and the small Hufflepuff refused to let their actions go unpunished.

“I’m not backing out,” he murmured, straightening up and glancing around to make sure that they were still alone. “Let’s get this over with so I can go to sleep, and we can leave without alerting a prefect.”

“Or _worse_ ,” Nerissa wiggled her eyebrows at him teasingly. “A _professor_.”

He rolled his eyes before narrowing them in her direction – he wasn’t sure how effective it was in the dark, but he thought she got the gist of his expression because she giggled, nudging him playfully.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, Rory,” she whispered. “It’s _much_ too easy to get under your skin. So much fire for a badger, don’t you think, Scarlett?”

Their friend was gazing at them exasperatedly, and Rory couldn’t help but feel proud at having put that look on her face; it was usually so hard to annoy the redhead. Nerissa grinned at him, and he knew that she must have been thinking something along those lines too.

“Are you done?” she asked. “The Gryffindor entrance is guarded by a portrait, so we’re going to have to be _fast_ ; we don’t have our robes on so it should be harder to describe us to a professor, but I’d rather we not risk it. You both managed the spell perfectly when we practised, so it should all go smoothly.”

“Yes, yes,” Nerissa said impatiently. “It’s not like it’s anything complicated, Scarlett, we planned this in less than two days. Save your worry for our future pranks, when there’ll _actually_ be something to stress over.”

Rory’s eyes widened at the thought of more pranks, but he couldn’t deny that a part of him was delighted to hear that the girls were planning on including him in their upcoming trickeries. It was nice to belong somewhere, and he’d definitely have to thank Victoria profusely for her utter lack of interest in interhouse rivalries.

“On the count of three?” Rory whispered, smiling widely. His partners in crime nodded, smirks in place, and he began the countdown.

He couldn’t _wait_ to see everyone’s reactions the next day. Although the prank itself had probably been used hundreds of times, it was about the _statement_ : the Weasley twins would do well to watch out, because they weren’t the only clever students around.

And _no one_ would hurt their friends without consequences.

* * *

Victoria was still mostly asleep when she entered the Great Hall on the first Saturday morning of the year. It was later than usual, although it was only barely past 8, and the Hall wasn’t as busy as it had been during the week.

She had almost reached the Hufflepuff table when she noticed it, and she had to rub her eyes a few times to make sure that she wasn’t imagining it. But no, the Gryffindor students were _truly_ all walking around with green hair, blue skin, and yellow clothes. It was unusual to see the house of lions as the sole target of a prank, but Victoria thought that they deserved a taste of their own medicine.

What a perfect beginning to one of her least favourite days of the year.

(It didn’t hurt that none of their first-years were affected by the prank.)

Rory was smiling widely when she sat down across the table from him, and she had to roll her eyes at his lack of subtlety, although she did quietly congratulate him for the success. She didn’t doubt that it was a way for him and his accomplices – the two Slytherin girls sitting next to him were a lot better at hiding it, but Victoria could see the pride in their eyes – to get back at the twins, and she appreciated the action.

Hopefully, she would never find herself on the receiving end of their plotting.

The trio were discussing their weekend plans with Poppy and a pair of Ravenclaws when Astoria arrived, looking ruffled and tired. The worried glance that passed between Scarlett and Nerissa did nothing to reassure Victoria and she promised herself to ask her friend if she was alright later.

“Morning,” the blond greeted them as she sat down. “What are you guys chatting about?”

“Just our plans for the next two days,” Poppy said with a smile. “Do you know what you’ll be up to, Astoria?”

“Sleep,” the girl grumbled. “Do homework, maybe go walking and exploring a little bit. Why, did you guys want us to do something together?”

One of their friends answered, but Victoria’s attention strayed as she noticed the flock of owls entering the Great Hall with their morning mail. Her fingers tightened around her cup of tea and she closed her eyes in a silent prayer – if Merlin existed, surely, he could spare her just this once.

Four owls flew her way with packages weighing them down and she gritted her teeth. Hypocrites, the lot of them, seeking her out when it made them look good but treating her like a burden the rest of the time.

The birds landed and she relieved them of their parcels, careful not to hurt the poor animals as she did so. She payed extra attention to Isa, her mother’s barn owl, and made sure that the four birds were fed and taken care of before waving them away, indicating that she wasn’t planning on sending off a response any time soon.

(If it was up to her, she wouldn’t respond at all.)

“Something to tell us, Victoria?” Rory was grinning when she looked up, though the smile fell off his face as soon as her gaze met his. She winced internally; this is why she hadn’t wanted to talk about it.

She _hated_ her birthday.

“Birthday presents, I suppose,” she said dully.

One from her mother, two from her maternal grandparents, one from her aunt, and… She glared at the last gift; a thick envelope covered in green ink. She ripped it open and stared at the papers as they fell on the table in front of her. The words mocked her, the signature at the bottom breaking her heart.

“Victoria?” Astoria said quietly.

Tears of frustration blurred her vision as she read the words again. She couldn’t speak, knowing that she would only snap at her friends. She vaguely registered birthday wishes being sent her way, but her eyes were fixed upon the seal on the envelope.

“ _Incendio_ ,” she snarled, knowing that she shouldn’t have been able to cast the spell, but letting her anger and her magic fuel it, obeying her will immediately.

The Nott coat of arms disappeared in the flames, and she grabbed the rest of her presents before standing up and rushing out of the Great Hall. She ignored her friends’ worried calls and a professor telling her to stop; she ignored the stares and the whispers; she had a vicious letter to write and a lot more to worry about.

She needed to find out if the papers were legally binding, if there was a way to avoid what they suggested, and _why_ her mother had agreed to such a thing.

“Victoria!” a voice called from behind her.

The dark-haired girl slowed down, waiting for Astoria to catch up with her. The blond girl was looking at her worriedly, and Victoria immediately felt bad for having put that anxiousness in her friend’s eyes.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said softly, fidgeting with the ribbon on one of her gifts and trying to forget about the one she had already opened. “I didn’t mean to scare any of you, and I certainly shouldn’t have set the papers on fire, no matter how much I wanted to.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Astoria answered. “It’s okay if you don’t like your birthday, although I think McGonagall was ready to take away fifty points when you cast that spell. How did you even _do_ that?”

“A little bit of emotion can go a long way,” she explained with a shrug. “Also, it’s my 12th birthday, my magic was ready to do just about anything I asked it to. The date is inconveniently a very powerful one; everyone’s magic should be a little stronger today, but mine even more so.”

“12 is a strong number,” Astoria nodded understandingly, then frowned in thought. Her eyes widened comically when she reached some kind of conclusion. “Today’s the _7 th _of _September_! Merlin, Victoria, no wonder your magic jumped out like that. Did you even have your wand out?”

She shrugged again, maybe she had, but it was very likely that her spell had been entirely wandless. She could still feel the power coursing in her body, sparking at her fingertips and swirling in her mind, giving her the beginnings of a migraine.

“Let’s go outside,” she said suddenly. “I need to open these stupid gifts and release a little bit of energy. I’m usually at home so I didn’t anticipate this, but it was an oversight on my part.”

Her friend didn’t say anything, simply staying by her side as they left the castle and walked towards the lake. Her presence was soothing, and Victoria couldn’t help but brush her magic against Astoria’s, unconsciously casting a warming spell over the both of them when she saw the blond girl shiver from the Scottish wind.

They sat down near the water, at the bottom of a tree, and Victoria’s magic hummed happily as she let it help flowers grow and get rid of weeds. The two girls watched silently as they were gradually surrounded by an ocean of colours.

“Very pretty,” Astoria commented lightly, letting her own magic leak out and weave in with Victoria’s. The show of power didn’t go unnoticed, but the Hufflepuff girl decided to stay silent on the subject.

Instead, she focused on her presents, sighing as she discovered the jewellery and etiquette book her grandparents had sent her. They meant well, but there was no love lost between the lot of them. She didn’t care for their traditions and they didn’t care for her often too-carefree attitude. Her mother had also settled for a book, this one on runes. Victoria would have appreciated it more if she hadn’t been aware of her mother’s intentions; she wanted her daughter to follow in her footsteps, not her father’s.

(The signature on a certain piece of paper made her magic volatile, itching to burn the book.)

The only gift she was looking forward to opening was her aunt’s, and she smiled a little as she unwrapped it to find a soft lavender jumper and a beautiful notebook meant for her potion experiments. Thank merlin one of her relatives was a decent human being who cared about her. Her mother’s sister was unable to bear children, and Victoria knew that her aunt had often wished that she was _her_ daughter.

“Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?” Astoria broke the silence once Victoria had put all of her presents aside.

The dark-haired girl fiddled with a flower, thinking about what she was willing to tell her friend. Astoria was kind, and she thought that she was trustworthy as well, but she had kept her secrets close to her chest for so long…

“I have anxiety,” her friend added unexpectedly. Victoria’s heart clenched as she thought about the blond girl’s pale complexion and the dark bags under her blue irises. “Which is why I look terrible. I had an attack last night before the health check-up, so I’m probably going to have to see my Healer again.”

Victoria stayed quiet, gently taking Astoria’s hand in hers. The girl was trembling, and her nails dug into Victoria’s flesh.

“It started when I was young, and there’s no cure for it,” her friend continued. “I just have to be patient, and on my guard, and constantly work to get better. It’s tiring, sometimes, more than I wish it was, so I also take potions when it gets bad. I think Hogwarts is just a little… overwhelming, and my mind couldn’t take it anymore. I feel fine today, but it’s not definite, and I’ll probably have some days when it just… sucks. A lot.”

Victoria nodded slowly. She didn’t know much about anxiety, but she would never judge her friend for something she couldn’t control. And she would do everything in her power to help the blond girl who chased after her when she set things on fire and didn’t look at her fearfully when her magic spread around them of its own accord.

“My mum married a few months after my birth,” she said quietly. Astoria didn’t let go of her hand. “Her parents wanted her to uphold pureblood tradition, and it would have been shameful for her to have a child but no husband. She doesn’t love him, and she didn’t want… She didn’t want this life, so she spends a lot of time at work, and because he takes care of his businesses from the manor, I’m often left alone with him.”

Astoria’s grip tightened but Victoria didn’t look at her, staring blankly at the water a few metres away from them.

“He’s not a kind man,” she whispered. “And I was so glad to leave the house, to come here and get sorted into Hufflepuff, away from everything my mother and him stand for. Finding my father was almost too much. I’m so happy to have him, but what if he only likes the idea of me?”

She paused, a tear escaping her eyes as she thought about the parchment she had burned to the crisp.

“I _need_ him to want me, Astoria,” she admitted brokenly. “My mum and her husband sent me papers this morning. _Guardianship_ papers. _Adoption_ papers, Astoria. They’re trying to give that _man_ legal control over me. And if my father refuses to take me in, there’ll be nothing I can do to escape him.”

Ice cold fear ran through her body as she leaned against her blond friend and started sobbing, her dignity be damned.

The flowers wilted and the water turned to ice, her magic weeping with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you to my sister and beta @Fall27 for helping me edit, as always! I hope you liked this chapter and that you're happy to see that we're finally getting to the main plots of this fic. I should be getting the next chapter up in a week's time!
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart and on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	6. Voices of Concern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> This chapter was a pain for me to write; it's very conversation heavy and touches upon a lot of the girls' problems so it took me a while to find how I wanted to approach everything. I think it turned out quite nice in the end, but please be aware that we'll be touching upon Victoria's less-than-ideal home life and Ginny's diary issues for the next few chapters, so it won't be all sunshine and rainbows. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

She stared at her food blankly, knowing that she should be eating it, but unable to do more than shove her breakfast around. She had lost weight, she knew, and her skin was paler than it had ever been. She looked terrible, and she couldn’t count the number of times she had thrown up after a meal, unable to stand any form of subsistence.

“Gin,” Percy said quietly. “You should eat something.”

She gazed up at her brother and shrugged, taking a small bite out of her eggs and hoping that it would satisfy him. The frown on his face suggested that it didn’t, but Ginny didn’t know why he _cared_ all of a sudden. Two weeks had gone by since the beginning of the school term, and this was the first time he had spoken to her.

“Ginny,” he said a little louder. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you shouldn’t be starving yourself. I’m worried about you.”

She snorted. _Worried_ , the voice inside her head whispered, _where was he before now?_ She tried to shake the thought away, blinking at her brother but not answering. There was a certain truth to the hissing voice’s words; where had he been for the last two weeks? Even her yearmates, complete _strangers_ , had noticed that something about her was off.

She wished that she could talk to them. Wished that the voice inside her head didn’t hiss dangerously when she approached them. Wished that she could answer Percy without feeling like she was betraying something.

(Someone?)

“I’m fine, Perce,” she said instead. “Just a little stressed. Hogwarts is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

Her brother frowned but didn’t argue. Typical Percy, unwilling to confront anyone seriously. He wasn’t a coward – he was a Gryffindor, after all – but Ginny knew that he hated fighting with those he cared about. All of their siblings had taken advantage of that fact at some point in their life, and so would she.

“Still,” he finally replied. “Make sure to eat something, I don’t want to hear about my little sister collapsing because she refused to feed herself on top of refusing to _sleep_.”

She flushed at the accusation, unaccustomed to being called out for her behaviour by someone other than their mother. She would have asked him how he knew, but the dark bags under her eyes were answer enough. Her soul was begging her to talk to him, to let out all of her worries and curl into her brother’s arms, but the voice continued to whisper, and she continued to pull away.

_He doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want to feel guilty later. He doesn’t care._

She didn’t know why she listened to it, just like she didn’t know why she listened to Tom, but she couldn’t stop herself. She itched to write in the diary even as her mind cried for her to let it go.

“I have class,” she finally announced. “And Snape would murder me if I was late. I’d better go.”

She didn’t wait for his answer, making her way to the dungeon classroom by herself. Second Friday of the school year and she still hadn’t made friends, although she knew that it was entirely her fault. Her roommates and yearmates had tried speaking to her, but every time they did, her throat would close up and no sound would come out. She hated it and hated herself for not being able to fight against the voice and the pressure.

She barely payed attention during Snape’s lecture, letting her partner take the lead when they were asked to brew. She wasn’t even sure what the potion was, only aware that they had turned in something semi-decent – Snape hadn’t docked any points. Her classmate hadn’t talked to her once, and Ginny tried to ignore the pain in her chest at the thought that even her yearmates had given up on her.

She made her way to Flitwick’s class mindlessly, staying behind her fellow Gryffindors and wanting the day to be over already. She tried not to feel alarmed at how little she felt like living. She stared at her desk as they waited for their professor to arrive, her heart aching and her mind screaming and her body breaking.

“Hey Weasley,” a girl said, sitting down next to her. She was pretty, with brown hair and warm brown eyes, a small smile on her face as she looked at Ginny. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”

The red-haired girl stayed silent but shook her head.

“It’s just…” her classmate started; eyebrows knitted together. “I’ve noticed that you’re having a hard time adjusting, and I’m not willing to give up on you just yet. It’s okay if you don’t want to speak, but I don’t mind quiet people, and I’m not about to let you fade away like you’ve been doing since the term started.”

 _She’ll leave you behind_ , the voice whispered. Ginny tried to shake it away, away from her thoughts and her heart and her throat. The girl was still talking, unbothered by her complete unresponsiveness.

“I think Flitwick is one of our better teachers,” she was saying. “Although with someone like _Lockhart_ on the staff, it isn’t hard to appear competent. But truly, Flitwick is one of the more neutral professors; he clearly cares more about Ravenclaw, but he doesn’t take away points from the other houses for no reason. If only I _cared_ about Charms.”

The professor entered the classroom and Ginny thought that it would make her neighbour stop, but she continued quietly. The redhead’s heart warmed a little as she let the girl’s voice wash over her.

“Can you feel the magic in the walls?” she whispered. “It’s everywhere, and I still get dizzy from time to time, although that might be because I’m particularly sensitive to magic. Everyone says it’s a great gift, but mostly it just gives me migraines. I’m sure we can both agree that headaches are a pain to deal with?”

Ginny nodded, the voice inside of her mind silent. _Don’t give up_ , someone else whispered in her head. It sounded suspiciously like the brunette next to her.

“Are you any good at charms?” she continued, gesturing towards the professor before glaring at the feather in front of her. It occurred to Ginny that they were supposed to be working on _Wingardium Leviosa_ again. “It’s one of my weakest subjects so far. I don’t know why I’m struggling so much, it’s not like the theory is hard or anything. I think I just lack the patience and precision needed…”

Flitwick started walking around the classroom, and the girl stopped speaking in order to work on the spell, but she kept making faces at Ginny. For the first time that year, the redhead couldn’t stop the small smile that spread on her lips. It stayed with her all through the class, and when she exited the room, the brunette was still by her side.

“I’m Felicity, by the way,” she winced. “I should have introduced myself earlier, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Ginny answered, her eyes widening as she spoke. Felicity was grinning.

“I know,” she said with a shrug. “But my mum always tells me that I should watch my manners, and she would have been _horrified_ at my behaviour. I half feel as though she’s going to pop up out of nowhere and tell me how disappointed she is.”

 _Don’t do it_ , the voice said.

 _Don’t give up_ , the other one answered.

“My mum’s the same,” she murmured.

Felicity’s eyes were bright and excited as she started to talk about the rumours she’d heard; they spoke of a terrifying Weasley matriarch who sent howlers to her children when they misbehaved but warm sweaters for Christmas every year. It sounded like her mum, and the brunette’s voice was calm, sweet, _kind_.

Percy’s eyes were warm with pride and relief when he saw her sit with a group of first-years for lunch.

* * *

“A lot of my students have come to me with concerns about one of their classmates,” Pomona announced as she took a seat across from Poppy.

The mediwitch in question had been sitting at her desk, getting ready for the Hufflepuff health check-ups, when her friend and colleague had walked in. It wasn’t unusual for Pomona to do so – they had gone to school together, after all – but they usually talked about the students _after_ the examinations, not before.

“I know what you’re thinking,” her friend continued. “And I _would_ have waited, if the student had been in my house. As it is, the first-years are worried about a certain Ginevra Weasley.”

“Weasley? A Gryffindor, then,” Poppy frowned. She had never understood why Minerva refused to bring her lions in for a check-up, and always spent a little bit more time with the Gryffindors than her other patients – there were too many abuse cases that Minerva had never reported, and Poppy’s heart ached for the children that she had had to help silently over the years.

“The last one, yes,” Pomona nodded. “They say she’s withdrawn, pale, fidgety… She doesn’t eat, barely sleeps, and constantly looks scared. I know that Minerva isn’t fond of your check-ups but… Surely you can find a way to get Miss Weasley in your infirmary? I’ve only had her in class a couple of times, but even I have to agree that her behaviour is worrying.”

Poppy sighed, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. There was always so much to do and never enough time or resources to do it. She had the Slytherin files to deal with, would soon have the Hufflepuff ones as well, and she needed to go over the allergies and medication for every student in the school. September was the busiest month of the year – although January was often a close second – and another student would only make things harder. But…

“It’s my job, isn’t it?” she said with a small smile. “I’ll try to get her into the infirmary some time soon. What about your badgers?”

“Thank you Poppy,” Pomona said softly. “And you know how my badgers are; they have a shield around them that makes it pretty much impossible to know if they’re suffering.”

“You’d think they’d be easier to deal with than the Slytherins,” Poppy rolled her eyes. “But Severus and you really like to collect the hard ones, don’t you? Hopefully this year will be an easy one.”

“Oh please don’t jinx it,” her friend laughed. “I told my prefects to bring them along as soon as they finished their meal, so it shouldn’t be long now.”

They took the time to catch up; Pomona had spent her holidays in the United States, holding conferences and teaching a few summer classes, and Poppy had stayed in England. They hadn’t met up, although it wasn’t surprising: the Hogwarts staff tended to stay away from each other during those two precious months; spending ten months together was already more than enough for all of them.

Poppy had almost forgotten about the night’s main event when a group of cheerful first-years walked into the infirmary, giggling and whispering, trying not to look too anxious. They had more students this year than the past, but the group was still smaller than it had been five years earlier. Births between 1979 and 1981 had been few and far between, and the classes would only start getting bigger again in the coming years.

“All right everyone,” Pomona announced, smiling at her students. “You know why you’re here; Poppy is going to run a scan over all of you, ask you a few questions, and then you’ll be free to go if everything is fine. Your results are _private_ so don’t worry about secrecy, and _please_ tell us if you have a problem that you’d like to talk to us about. We’re here to help, not to hurt.”

The first-years had quieted down, glancing at each other worriedly and shuffling towards the beds when their Head of House waved them ahead. Poppy closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded at Pomona; she was ready.

The first four students were easy; two girls and two boys, all in good health and with no particular problems. They thanked her for her work and smiled cheerfully as they left the room. Those were the cases she liked; students with happy childhoods and nice families, bright eyes and easy grins. Most Hufflepuffs were easy cases, but there were always exceptions.

There was a muggleborn who was struggling with the magical world and would need guidance from his peers and Pomona; a pureblood girl with a strict uncle whose parents would be contacted, and four other students with only minor issues (allergies that would need to be taken into account, homesickness, asthma…).

She had thought the last girl would be simple. The first week’s report had described her as joyful, eager, and sharp-witted; her last name alone should have guaranteed her safety and well-being. And yet here they were.

“Miss Snape,” Poppy said quietly, the name sounding wrong. “Victoria, would you be able to tell me why your scan shows a concerning history of burns and bruises?”

A calculating look passed through her eyes, reminding the mediwitch of a certain professor. That look alone was enough for Poppy to know that something was wrong; it was a Slytherin move, trying to weigh the pros and the cons before speaking up.

“How confidential is this meeting?” the small girl finally asked, staring down at her hands and fidgeting with the sheets.

“Very,” Poppy assured her. “The only people who will hear about this are Pomona and myself, as well as an outsider of your choice, preferably an adult that you trust.”

“I see,” Victoria murmured. “And what will you do if I tell you how I got those injuries?”

Her words were soft, but Poppy heard them as clear as day. Cries for help were hard to miss.

“I promise you I will do everything within my power to get you away from whatever or whoever is causing you pain,” she replied sincerely, then hesitated. “Is it your father?”

“What?” the dark-haired girl frowned, as though the idea was inconceivable. “Of course not! Isn’t he your colleague? Shouldn’t you know that he would never hurt anyone, least of all his daughter?! I’ve only known him for two weeks, and even I can see that he would _never_ harm a child!”

She was right, but Poppy also knew that people could sometimes surprise you in the worst ways possible. The comment about Severus suggested that she had only recently met the man, which made things both easier and harder.

“I apologise for my assumptions,” she said. “Now that I know that no member of the staff was involved, we have two options; you can either tell me about the situation here, or we can go to my office with your Head of House and contact your third party before we start.”

A pause, fear in the girl’s eyes.

“The first option.”

Unsurprising.

So Poppy waited silently, listening to the story of a young girl with sadness and terror in her eyes, who stuttered but stayed strong, wondering _why_ the girl was admitting to the abuse so easily. She blinked away the tears that threatened to fall at the thought of Severus’ daughter suffering at the hands of another man.

“He’s trying to adopt me,” she finally said, fists clenched. There were tears in her eyes. “And I can’t… I can’t _live_ like that. I don’t want… I don’t want people to think I’m weak, but… I’m so _scared_. And if telling my father about all of this can get me away from _him_ , then… I _need_ to leave that house, please. _Please_ tell me you can take me away from him.”

She could certainly try, so that’s what she told her patient. She left the girl alone, slipping her a vial of Dreamless Sleep and telling her that she would join her housemates at breakfast the next day. The gratefulness in those dark eyes made Poppy want to cry all over again.

She grit her teeth instead, making her way to her office and letting herself fall onto her small sofa unceremoniously. Pomona stared at her knowingly.

“Who should I call for?” she asked.

“Severus, please,” Poppy answered. They needed the third party present in order to go over the details of the case. Luckily, their potions master already knew how these conversations went, although she suspected that it would be a lot more painful for him than it usually was.

Pomona was speaking quietly in front of the fireplace and Poppy took advantage of that precious time, breathing in deeply and chasing away the image of her patient. No matter how many times she dealt with victims of abuse, the pain remained, that devastating feeling of helplessness that lasted a few minutes before she realised that she could _do something_.

“Poppy?” Severus’ voice interrupted her. “You called for me?”

She gestured towards the comfortable armchairs in her study before looking up, determined and angry and sorry for the professor and the pain she would cause him.

“The Hufflepuff health check-ups were tonight,” she said steadily. “Most of them are fine, however my last patient… Is not. She asked for you as her third party, so I needed you here to start the review of her case.”

“Who would ask…” his eyes widened suddenly, worry and fear and incredulity. “No.”

“Severus…” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“No…” he repeated brokenly. “How… How bad is it?”

“She insists that the worst thing her mother does is neglect her a little bit,” she started. “A lack of care, forgetting about her for a few days… Already bad enough by itself without adding her step-father into the story. We’re talking verbal _and_ physical abuse: belittlement, insults, slaps, curses, hexes… Just small injuries that would seem innocent enough alone, but when put together…”

She had never seen Severus look as mad as he did in that instant.

“Who is he?” he growled. “Who decided that they had the _right_ to hurt my _daughter_? Which bastard is responsible for my Victoria’s pain?”

“Please don’t do something you’ll regret later,” Poppy sighed. “I believe you know him: Darius Nott.”

* * *

“Astoria!” Theo called out as the blond girl entered the common room. His best friend’s sister looked over and smiled softly at him.

“Hiya Theo,” she said, sinking down into the couch next to him. “What’s up?”

He had to stop himself from snorting at her choice of words; ever since she had started spending time with her first-year friends, her usual pureblood vocabulary had been replaced by a more laid-back way of speaking. That was to say, she finally sounded like an eleven-year-old girl.

“I just wanted to know how you were doing,” he said, lips twitching at the easy grin on her face. “Daphne’s worried but she doesn’t want to seem overbearing, so she’s just biting her nails from afar. I thought I’d save her from herself and _ask_ you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Astoria rolled her eyes. “I’m doing great, Theo, really, better than I expected.”

He had noticed. He had expected his honorary sister to struggle with the number of strangers, to hide behind Daphne and tag along with them in between classes. Instead, she had found herself surrounded by friends from every house and sticking close to the Snape girl during meals.

“You should be careful, Ria,” he said quietly. “Slytherins aren’t used to interhouse alliances, and I’ve seen a few upper years look at you and your little group sideways. Wizards are slow to accept change, you know.”

“Theo,” she sighed. “Thank you for the warning, but I’m not an idiot. I know that the older students aren’t happy about this; Merlin knows that Malfoy has been sneering at us enough for the lot of them. However, you forget that we have quite a few advantages on our side.”

He raised an eyebrow curiously, wondering what ‘advantage’ she could be talking about. It was well-known that their Head of House let them deal with inner-house problems by themselves, only intervening when things got dangerous. And he doubted that the other professors would do anything to help Astoria and her friends.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she laughed. “First of all, if a Slytherin tries to _deal with me_ , they’ll have to deal with all of the Slytherins in my year. There’s a certain strength in numbers. Secondly, the professors might ignore things that they can’t see, but if my friends from the other houses intervene, the consequences will be a _little bit_ more severe. And our biggest advantage? My best friend is our Head of House’s _daughter_. He might be willing to let things slide, but what do you think he’ll do if he finds out that I’m being ostracized because of my friendship with Victoria?”

She had a point, but Slytherins were known for their cunning and determination, and he didn’t want the first-years to get hurt because they weren’t careful enough. The look in his friend’s eyes told him that he wouldn’t get anywhere with her, so he just sighed heavily.

“Just don’t get into too much trouble,” he said, deciding to move on. “So Snape, huh? Is she anything like her father?”

Astoria’s gaze darkened for a second, but the change was too brief for Theo to understand what it meant. He wondered what secrets his friend was hiding now that she had other people who cared about her.

“I don’t know Professor Snape well enough to tell you about how much they resemble each other,” she shrugged. “But she’s kind and loyal and passionate, and very good at Potions and Defence, from what I’ve heard. She seems to think it’s all about genetics, but Hufflepuffs are known for their hard work, and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she’s spent years getting to the level that she’s at now.”

The same talents as their professor, although it was unclear whether she was gifted or extremely determined – or both.

“I assume she lives with her mother,” he said, aware that his statement sounded more like a question than anything else. “Surely we would have seen her if Professor Snape was her legal guardian.”

“I’m not sure it has anything to do with legalities,” Astoria frowned. “But she lives with her mother, yes.”

He sometimes forgot how clever the blond girl was; he suspected that Daphne and her got it from their father. The Greengrass patriarch had been delighted to have two daughters, but also aware that they lived in a world largely dominated by men, and Theo knew that the two girls had been subject to many lessons on politics and etiquette and how to survive and _thrive_ in their still-sexist society.

“Are you implying that Snape’s situation isn’t fully legal?” he asked carefully, wondering if he was stepping over boundaries. How much would Astoria be willing to tell him? ( _How loyal was she to a girl she had just met?)_

“I’m not implying anything,” she said innocently. “I’m only saying that we live in a patriarchal world in which men _always_ win. For Victoria to live with her mother, her father would have had to give up on his rights to see her and care for her. I’m just curious to know… Do you think a man like Professor Snape would have signed away his rights to his own blood?”

The answer was clear in her words and in his mind. Severus Snape was cold at times, and hardly the most empathetic person Theo had met, but he was also careful and gentle when he wanted to be. He looked after his Slytherins and he tried to help his students as best as he could, and he would _never_ have given up on his daughter.

The thought ignited something inside of Theo. Made him think about nights spent in a large armchair with a mug of hot chocolate, listening to his Head of House’s soothing voice. About reassurances and secret potions and safety. About a man whose eyes would soften minutely when he worried about his students’ welfare.

Who could be cruel enough to keep that man away from his child? 

“He didn’t know about her…” he murmured. “There are people out there who couldn’t care less about their children, who treat them like… _Horrible_ people, who still get to know their children. And yet, he didn’t _know_ about her, when he would have loved her more than life itself.”

“How do you know this, Theo?” Astoria whispered. “How do you know what Professor Snape is like?”

He didn’t reply, didn’t have to. Deep down, his friend knew the answer to her own question. In the same way that Daphne had known, even before Hogwarts. The two girls were the only people who had met his family, seen him in his home, gotten a glimpse of his secrets.

“Did he help you?” she finally continued, softly.

Her eyes were sad, but also hopeful. She _wanted_ Snape to be a good person, wanted it to be true. It made him wonder about Victoria Snape and the secrets that she must keep hidden behind those charming smiles and that contagious laughter.

“Of course he did,” he answered. “Professor Snape knows more about families like mine than anyone else in this school. It’s a well-known fact between us unfortunate children that his apparent coldness is a carefully crafted mask; he takes care of us Slytherins and of the Hufflepuffs, and occasionally he’ll even take in a Ravenclaw. He can’t always fix everything, but he _tries_ and that’s enough for most of us.”

“I’m sorry that he wasn’t able to fix all of your problems, Theo,” Astoria said quietly, taking his hand and looking at him with sincere sapphire irises full of pain.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “There are people out there who are a lot worse than my father. My _uncle_ for example, and Draco’s grandfather, and muggles who abuse their children for having magic. If I could leave, I would, but I can’t. Only 5 years left and then I can forget about him.”

5 years more. He could deal with his father until he turned 17, but not a day longer.

Astoria was staring at the fireplace, a small frown marring her delicate features. Theo knew her well enough to understand that she wanted to tell him something but didn’t know how he would react.

“The Hufflepuffs had their health check-ups last night,” she admitted after a few minutes of silence. “And Victoria wasn’t at breakfast today.”

She didn’t say anything else, but Theo had been in the Hufflepuff girl’s place a year earlier and didn’t need an explanation. He could only hope that she wouldn’t have to wait until she was 17 to get away from whoever was hurting her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, you're welcome to comment if you have anything that you'd like to point out! Thanks to my wonderful sister and beta @Fall27 for helping me edit this chapter, as always. I hope you're looking forward to next week's update because it's my favourite so far!! We're going to get quite a big time skip and jump right into the plot that I've been building up on these last few chapters. 
> 
> I'm happy to say that I'm still on schedule with my writing and that I haven't hit a block yet, so I should still be posting weekly ^^
> 
> Love, Julie.
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	7. Samhain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya guys! 
> 
> This is my favourite chapter so far and I'm really proud of how it turned out! It's quite plot-oriented so I decided to focus on two main point of views that I thought fit really well. Next week's chapter is ready and a lot more relationship-based so it'll be a bit slower next week but for now I hope you like what I did with the plot! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It took Severus a month to find a solution to Victoria’s problems and get the paperwork started. He had spent more time working outside of the classroom than in it; contacting allies who worked for the Ministry and meeting up with people from three different departments within the institution, going over past abuse cases, looking for Nott’s weaknesses…

And in between all that, he saw his daughter and tried to earn her trust, little by little. It was never like that first conversation, when she had been happy and talkative, but they were getting there. He listened to her, talked to her, and let her know that he wanted her. He would be getting her away from that man if it was the last thing he did.

A day before Halloween, his lawyer and friend, Lucius Malfoy, announced that they would  _ finally  _ be visiting Melody and her husband to discuss the case. Although if it was up to Severus, there wouldn’t be much  _ discussing _ going on.

“Calm down, Severus,” Lucius told him as they apparated to Nott Manor. “Keep your anger away until you need to use it. Lashing out won’t help us win this, so please don’t kill anyone.”

He grunted his agreement but snarled on the inside; there shouldn’t have been a case to begin with. The claim for guardianship had complicated everything, so much so that he had been afraid Victoria might have had to go back to her mother for the Christmas holidays.

Thankfully, Lucius was a miracle worker when it came to laws and contracts. His friend turned to him solemnly and rang the bell.

In the minute that it took for a house elf to greet them, Severus took several deep breaths and focused on his most pleasant memories instead of the disaster that was waiting for them inside the manor.

His daughter, his godson, his friends, getting his mastery, his daughter, his godson…

“Yous may follow me good sirs,” the elf said, making Severus realise that he had missed Lucius’ introductions.

His friend kept a steady hand on his arm, something for which he was immensely grateful. The house was richly decorated – though more sombrely than the Malfoy estate – but made Severus shiver. There was something off about it, something cold and  _ wrong _ , and he had to swallow down the hatred and horror that rose in his throat at the thought of his kind, wonderful daughter growing up in such a place.

“Lucius, Severus,” a voice called out. The smile on Nott’s face was just as fake as Severus remembered it. The cruelty in his eyes hadn’t disappeared. The urge to punch him was strong.

“Darius,” Lucius answered with a small nod. “We have matters to discuss, although our letter must have already prepared you for this. I trust your wife is available?”

“Of course,” Nott smiled. “Melody will be down in just a moment. She’s been working all morning to catch up on the work she’s missing because of this meeting.”

Severus wanted to snarl that Victoria’s well-being was far more important than a few hours of work, but Lucius’ grip remained strong and he refused to lose his temper before their conversation even started.

He was doubly grateful for his friend’s presence when his ex-lover walked into the room, looking exactly as she had years before. But behind the beauty and grace she had always had, Severus could see a stiffness and coldness that hadn’t been there before. She  _ looked  _ like the woman he had loved, but she wasn’t. Not anymore.

“Severus, Lord Malfoy,” she said politely. “Why don’t we all sit down?”

He stayed silent, nodding cordially at her question and taking a seat beside Lucius on an uncomfortable sofa – made for unwanted guests, undoubtedly.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries,” Lucius said coolly. “I believe we all know why we’re here, and I personally don’t want this little  _ get together  _ to last any longer than it needs to be. Do we agree?”

Melody’s lips thinned and Nott frowned slightly at the insult, but they clearly both agreed with Lucius.

“Very well,” his blond friend continued. “Frankly, we are only here to show you both basic courtesy. The departments involved have already agreed to the change in guardianship and in less than a month, Victoria will no longer be your responsibility. You will no longer have to house her, provide for her, or even  _ see  _ her.”

“You’re going to forbid me from seeing my own  _ daughter _ ?” Melody snapped; blue eyes full of fire.

“We’re not going to forbid you from doing anything, Mrs. Nott,” Lucius responded. “If you wish to see your daughter, you may. Your husband, however, will not even be allowed  _ close  _ to her.”

“Why are you even doing this? Why now?” she hissed. “I raised her for eleven years! What gives you the right to take her away?”

Fury. Somewhere behind him, a vase shattered. He breathed in deeply and looked away from Melody before he did anything that would get him into trouble. Next to him, Lucius was smirking. He had been waiting for her questions. In a way, so had Severus.

“Let me be clear,” his friend murmured. “We are being  _ generous _ with this case and our concessions. What you did was  _ illegal _ , Mrs. Nott. Primary guardianship always goes to the father, and no matter how flawed the law is, it is the  _ law _ . Keeping Severus away from his daughter was a crime, and the only reason you are not being punished for it is because Victoria is too kind for her own good.”

“So you’re doing this to get back at me?” Melody continued, glaring at both of them. Nott remained quiet. “I kept you away, so now you’re going to do the same thing? Have you even thought about what Victoria wants?”

This time, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Oh, Melody,” he said softly – dangerously. “Who do you think asked us to do this? I would have been content to share guardianship, truthfully, and to let bygones be bygones,  _ if _ Victoria had asked that of me.”

The hint of sadness in her eyes was almost enough to make him feel sorry for her, but not quite. She should have shown some of that sadness when her daughter was being abused by the man she called her husband; should have shown that sadness when she had broken Severus’ heart. He might have pitied her then, but he couldn’t anymore.

“Ah,” Nott said smoothly, speaking up for the first time. “So the girl came crying to you about how awful I was, and you  _ believed  _ her. Surely you know that children her age tend to stretch the truth, that is no reason to take her away from us, her  _ family _ .”

He tightened his occlumency barriers as firmly as he could, only letting a sliver of air pass his lips. Next to him, Lucius had straightened up and abandoned all pretence, glaring at Nott icily.

“Listen to me carefully, Darius,” his friend sneered. “We have proof of the abuse Victoria suffered at your hands, as well as a willing witness in the form of the child herself. The marks that were found on her were clearly intentional, and her testimony would be more than enough to get you locked up in Azkaban. The  _ only reason  _ that hasn’t happened yet is because we need to decide whether or not this course of action is advantageous to our future plans. You have  _ no say  _ in this matter, Darius. You will never come close to Severus and Melody’s daughter again, you will not contact her or talk to her or Merlin forbid  _ harm her _ , because if you do, I will  _ personally  _ make sure that you never set a foot outside of that prison.”

The usually impeccable pureblood mask that Nott wore had disappeared, leaving behind eyes full of madness and fear. Severus hadn’t known that Lucius had it in him to give such a speech; truthfully, he hadn’t known that his friend cared so much about the situation.

“Surely it wasn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be?” Melody cut in quietly.

Disgust rose in Severus’ throat. They had just told her that her  _ daughter  _ was  _ abused  _ and the first thing on her mind was denial. There was sadness in her gaze, but it was almost resigned, and Severus didn’t want to think about the implications of such a look. He didn’t want to think about such a bright woman ignoring abuse, letting her child suffer; he didn’t want to think about Victoria’s trembling voice when she had admitted that she thought her mother was aware of her poor treatment.

“We’re leaving, Lucius,” Severus announced, standing up uninvited. “We have discussed things quite enough for one day.”

His friend shot him a worried glance – barely perceptible, but Severus was well-versed in reading even flickers of change on the blond Lord’s face. Eventually, however, he nodded and reached for his cane, following the Potions Master as he stalked out of the room.

Just as he was about to leave for good, Severus paused and looked back at his once-love. She didn’t say anything, didn’t try to protest. How could she have given up so easily? If  _ he  _ had been about to lose Victoria, he would have done whatever it took to make sure it didn’t happen.

In that moment, he couldn’t remember why he had ever loved the woman.

“I hope you realise, Melody,” he said, just loudly enough for his voice to carry to the silent duo. “That you are letting the best thing that has ever happened to you slip right through your fingers. Victoria is  _ precious _ , she is a gift, a miracle, and I hope she never finds out that you hardly even fought for her.”

She flinched back, and Severus could only savour the fact that she was  _ finally  _ reacting. Maybe she would contact him so that they could come to an agreement; no matter how despicable he found her behaviour, Victoria deserved to have her mother in her life. 

* * *

Felicity missed her parents.

It hit her suddenly, when she walked into the hall on Halloween and found it heavily decorated. The bats and pumpkins were atrocious – Felicity might have been a half-blood, but her father had raised her as a witch, and their traditions  _ mattered  _ to her – and although most of her classmates seemed to be laughing at the atmosphere…

Samhain was the most important holiday of the year for her, and she hated to see it be treated like some candy-collecting feast. The blatant muggleborn favouritism made her grit her teeth, but she stopped herself from reacting too negatively. Hopefully, some of her yearmates would understand her frustrations – yes, surely some of the more traditional Slytherins would side with her. Determined, she made her way to the group of first-years sitting at the Ravenclaw table.

“Good morning,” she greeted them with a slight smile. She might have been in a foul mood, but she always enjoyed their meals together – partly because it was easier to fit in when everyone was actively  _ trying _ to make you fit in, and partly because she loved seeing the grimaces on the older students’ faces.

“I can’t believe it’s already Halloween,” someone was saying. “Time flies by so fast when we’re here; I swear it feels like the Sorting ceremony was yesterday.” 

Felicity had to agree with the boy – she had seen him before but couldn’t quite put a name to the face – and she wondered if time at Hogwarts would always pass by as quickly, or if the novelty of learning magic was warping their internal clocks.

“G’morning Felicity,” a tired voice made her turn towards the newest arrival.

Ginny was still a mystery; still looked exhausted and pale and sick, but Felicity thought that there was a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there at the beginning of the year. Their classmates had been surprised when the brunette had showed up to dinner with the youngest Weasley in tow halfway through September, but she knew that they had all been relieved. The little redhead had been welcomed warmly and her brown eyes had brightened significantly after that evening.

“Hiya,” she smiled at her friend; if anyone could make her day better, it would be Ginny. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” the redhead frowned. “It’s weird because I’ve been sleeping a lot more lately, but last night felt weird. I think I might have had a nightmare or something.”

That the girl was even  _ telling her _ about her problems showed Felicity how far they’d come. It had taken her weeks of chatting mostly by herself before Ginny had started talking back. She had only really started initiating conversations a week earlier, but Felicity would take whatever she could get.

“Hopefully it was just a one-time thing,” she told her friend. “Are you looking forward to the feast?”

The redhead shrugged noncommittally. Felicity could understand – to a certain extent, at least. Halloween was a muggle celebration, so it would have been strange for the Weasleys to follow any of  _ those  _ practises. On the other hand, they weren’t traditional enough to go along with the Samhain rituals. The day probably didn’t mean much to Ginny; sure, the Dark Lord had been defeated, but it didn’t touch the girl personally either.

“I’ve never done anything for Halloween before,”  _ Ha, called it!  _ “But I guess the feast will be fun.”

Right, Felicity snorted.  _ Fun _ was one way to put it.

“You don’t celebrate Halloween?” Ginny asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. “I thought it was pretty common in the Muggle world?”

“It is,” the brunette agreed. “But my mother doesn’t care for sweets and walking around, so we actually follow my father when it comes to holidays and festivities. Mum loves learning new things, and wizarding traditions are absolutely  _ fascinating  _ to her.”

“Oh! Does that mean you celebrate Samhain?” a new voice interjected. The two girls twisted in their seats to stare at their eavesdropper, only to find Victoria Snape smiling at them excitedly. “I was worried that I’d be the only one to observe the Olde traditions.”

“Thank Circe!” Felicity exclaimed. “I have nothing against non-traditionals, but the ceremony is hard to do alone… I was going to ask someone to help me anyways, so perhaps we could do it together?”

There was a certain kinship between people who still followed the Olde Magicks; although traditionals were still fairly easy to find in the older families, Felicity had been worried that the still-recent fall of the Dark Lord would discourage people from practising anything that could be seen as ‘black magic’.

“I’d love to,” the raven-haired girl answered, her eyes kind. “I think Astoria was planning on joining me even though her family doesn’t celebrate Samhain. They’re traditional, but apparently one of their ancestors held a dislike for this particular celebration… I don’t really understand their decision, especially since it’s one of my personal favourites, but whatever makes them happy. I still think they’re missing out on a lot; there are some magics that only truly  _ sing  _ on Samhain.”

It was liberating, to have found someone whose eyes shone brightly as she talked about a festivity that meant the world to Felicity.

“I get what you mean,” the brunette smiled softly. “I’d usually go through the preparations in the evening, but with the feast, it might be more practical to gather everything we might need in the afternoon. I’m sure we can find a way to perform the ritual once everyone is asleep; there are plenty of secluded rooms that we could sneak into. I’m sure there’s enough Slytherin in you to not get  _ caught _ .”

Felicity wiggled her eyebrows at that last statement and Victoria laughed, which set off a burst of happiness in the brunette’s heart at seeing the other girl so relaxed. Everyone had noticed how tense the girl had been in the last few weeks, and it was nice to see that she was feeling better – even if it was only for a little while.

“What’s Samhain about?” Ginny finally asked, eyes wide and curious; sometimes Felicity wondered why the girl hadn’t ended up in Ravenclaw. “Mum and dad never taught us about the traditions, and I don’t think I want to participate in your… ritual, but maybe if I learn more about it, I can join you next year?”

“Of course!” Felicity exclaimed. “It wouldn’t do for you to rush into things headfirst, but I’m sure that Victoria can tell you about the basics of the holiday!”

No matter how hard the girl blushed, everyone knew that she had a talent for explaining magical theory that no one else could imitate. Felicity had been to quite a few study sessions with her, and she had a way of talking that  _ made sense _ . Victoria took a deep breath and frowned for an instant before clasping her hands together, her eyes serious and solemn.

“Samhain is a Celtic holiday that marks the beginning of the new year in many pagan calendars,” she started. “You see, most wizarding traditions are actually similar to existing muggle ones, but where the holidays are a time for witches and wizards to strengthen their link to magic, it has mostly religious connotations in the muggle world. Our traditions aren’t exactly labelled as a  _ religion  _ in Magical Britain, but it’s as close as we get to one. However, it’s more than just honouring our God and Goddess and thanking them for our magic; every holiday has a different meaning and importance.”

Ginny nodded to show that she understood, and Felicity had to hide her smile at the awe in her friend’s eyes. Victoria’s voice was always so soothing and enchanting; there were at least five other students listening to her as she talked about the origins of their lifestyle.

“I won’t get into each holiday and ritual, but just know that they are all associated to the passing of the seasons,” their storyteller continued, waving her hands around. “Samhain is the last harvest festival of the year; it marks the beginning of the season of cold and night. Tonight will be the time when the Veil between Life and Death is at its weakest, and those who follow our traditions will undoubtedly be stronger on All Hallow’s Eve. Magic is everywhere around us, but it is  _ especially  _ so during our rituals. There are so many different things to do on Samhain, ways to reflect about the past year and to cleanse ourselves, rituals that allow us to communicate with our dead loved ones, and offerings that will strengthen our bond with our Mother and thus our magic.”

Everyone around them was gawking; Victoria seemed to shine as she spoke, and Felicity felt her magic hum happily at the respect in her yearmate’s words. Even Astoria – who had arrived at some point – looked starstruck.

“Samhain is the night of the Dead,” the girl murmured, although the silence permeating the air ensured that the entire group of first-years could still hear her. “But it is also a time of renewal and reflection, and anyone who wishes to join us for  _ any  _ of our ‘activities’ today is welcome.”

For a moment, Felicity thought that someone was going to clap, or cheer, or cry. She wondered if Victoria knew that her magic was swirling lazily around everyone, blanketing them in warmth and safety. She didn’t want to break the silence, and truthfully it felt like  _ no one  _ did.

Victoria’s cheeks were blazing, and a second later her magic withdraw, and everyone released their breath collectively. Felicity frowned at the loss but didn’t say anything; she would just have to find a way to make sure that the girl’s magic never lost its potency and vibrance.

“So,” Felicity grinned. “Who wants to celebrate the best day of the year with us?”

Which is how Felicity ended up spending her day with not only Victoria, but also Astoria, a quiet boy named Nathan, a cheerful girl called Ebony, and a nervous-looking boy who introduced himself as Will.

Apparently, Nathan’s parents had raised him to follow the traditions and he had been glad to find others who would appreciate the day – although he would be performing the ritual alone. Ebony was a half-blood witch who had been extremely curious to hear more about the Wicca practises that her mother hadn’t cared about, and she had convinced her muggleborn best friend – the infamous Will – to come along with them.

The poor boy had been worried that Magic wouldn’t accept him because of his blood, but Victoria had snorted and told him that their Mother didn’t  _ care  _ about any of that and was more than happy to give some of her strength to  _ muggles _ if they respected her. The sandy-haired boy had relaxed a little bit after that, but he still looked adorably worried – hopefully those worries would disappear soon enough.

Their little group of six started their Saturday by going for a meditative walk; no one spoke as they wandered around in different directions to reflect on what their year had been like. Felicity thought of change and fear and overcoming obstacles that she hadn’t known were  _ there _ . She thanked Magic and Mother Nature and the God that looked over them, and the tension that she hadn’t even  _ realised  _ was there seeped out of her.

When they met back up, even little Will was smiling calmly.

The rest of the day was spent much more cheerfully: they collected sage and sandalwood and sweetgrass and wormwood; found some nuts and apples and snacked on their treasures; dug their hands into the earth and splashed around in the lake – although they would probably regret it the next day when they all woke up with colds.

They managed to cajole a house-elf – Victoria and Astoria had  _ somehow  _ found the kitchens – into giving them some beautiful candles so that they could all complete the ritual later that night. Litzy – the elf – had caught on to what they were doing and even offered them pumpkins, which led to a delightful session of carving scary faces into the large vegetables – or were they fruits?

When it was finally time for the feast, the group met up with the rest of their year and excitedly sat down at the Gryffindor table. Victoria had explained the traditions in more detail to Astoria, Ebony, and Will, and Felicity was glad to notice that they had each left an empty spot next to them as a courtesy to those who had already passed away.

She  _ wasn’t  _ glad to notice that Ginny wasn’t with the other Gryffindors. Apparently, she hadn’t been feeling well and had decided to stay in bed. It was a shame; Felicity had been looking forward to seeing her friend at the feast.

And Ginny had  _ promised her _ that she’d be there.

Well, if she wasn’t too tired after the ritual, Felicity would try to find her wayward friend and make sure that she wasn’t going back to her old self. It wouldn’t do for all of the brunette’s hard work to go to waste after two months of coaxing the redhead out of her shell.

She let herself be drawn back into the conversation and prayed to Magic that Ginny would be alright. She couldn’t get rid of the niggling feeling in her heart that told her that something was wrong.

* * *

Something was wrong.

She was supposed to be at the feast with –  _ brown hair warm eyes  _ – with her friend, with –  _ kind smile  _ – Felicity. The girl had said that they would eat with all the other first-years and it would be great.

She wasn’t at the feast. Why wasn’t she at the feast?

_ We have important things to do,  _ the voice said. She tried to push it out. She thought that she had gotten rid of it, but it always came back.  _ Don’t resist it, we’re going to be great together _ .

Felicity cared about her and now she was going to disappoint her only friend, the only person who talked to her –  _ I talk to you _ , the voice whispered,  _ we don’t need her _ .

It wasn’t real.

What wasn’t real? The voice or Felicity’s friendship?  _ She doesn’t want you _ , the hiss continued. It wasn’t real. Felicity didn’t want her.

She was walking somewhere, alone –  _ you’re never alone, Ginny, you have me  _ – and even though she had been in the castle for over a month, she didn’t recognise this bathroom. Had it always been there? Had she been there before? How did she know that it was there?

_ Open _

There was a sound, quite like the voice, but also not. It hissed and teased and reassured but Ginny’s heart was pounding.

Something was wrong.

She was supposed to be at the feast with –  _ she doesn’t care  _ – but she was in a bathroom instead. Why was she there?

There was something with her, something big. Why couldn’t she see it? Were her eyes closed?  _ Keep your eyes closed.  _ She had to keep her eyes closed. The big thing was dangerous, the voice told her, very dangerous, but it was there to help them.

She didn’t know why they needed help. Who was ‘they’? Was she going crazy, thinking about the voice as a person? But the voice needed help. She needed help. She couldn’t remember why.

The girl – the one with warm eyes – the girl had said that if she needed help, she could come to her. Why were they with something dangerous if the kind girl could help them?  _ Be quiet _ , the voice whispered. She hadn’t been talking. The voice was loud, and she wanted it to be quiet, too.

She – they – stopped somewhere, and Ginny was moving now, but her eyes were closed, and she couldn’t see, and she needed help and she didn’t know where they were.

She was supposed to be at the feast, at the feast with the warm eyes. Her hands were warm and wet, and she wanted to be at the feast.

_ Be quiet. _

_ She doesn’t care. _

_ It isn’t real. _

_ Kill them all. _

_ Rip, kill, rip… _

Something was wrong.

She opened her eyes to darkness; she hoped she hadn’t missed the feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And thank you, as always, to my beta and little sister @Fall27 for helping me edit these chapters and make them as good as possible. I'm still going strong on the writing; I don't know how long this Hogwarts year is going to last because of the changes I have planned for canon-related events but hopefully none of you feel as though it's too rushed or too dragged out. 
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave comments or kudos, they really keep me going in terms of writing!
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	8. Growing Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> Hope you're all doing well! I'm happy to say that we're still on schedule, even 6 weeks into my semester! This chapter is a little bit more quiet on the plot side but it deals with the relationships between our main characters; I really love these four girls and it's been super fun to explore their personalities and the way they interact with each other. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Things changed after Samhain. Victoria wasn’t sure why or how, but suddenly Felicity Eastchurch and Ginny Weasley became permanent fixtures in her life. She had been unsure about their presence at first, or rather about _Astoria’s reaction_ to their presence, but she shouldn’t have worried. Her Slytherin friend accepted the two girls into their little group easily.

Felicity was absolutely brilliant; she spent most of her time drawing and doodling and barely paying attention in class, but she still had vast amounts of knowledge hidden in that clever brain of hers. She was kind and patient and _hilarious_ ; she had come up with the best prank that would ever grace Hogwarts’ halls and no one would even _know_ that they were being tricked.

Ginny, on the other hand, was worryingly quiet. The redhead had been more open for a while, but Samhain had made her withdraw again. The other three thirds of their quartet had been trying to find the reason behind her stranger behaviour, but so far, they hadn’t found _anything_. Madam Pomfrey assured them that physically, Ginny was only slightly anaemic, but nothing more.

Now December had arrived, and they were still doing their best to cheer up the downcast girl. Their latest idea was positively _genius_ and Victoria couldn’t wait to see their friend’s reaction.

It was a little after dinner, and Astoria and Victoria were quietly sneaking towards the kitchens like two shadows on a mission. The two girls were withholding giggles as they stumbled into the large house-elf-dominated room and shut the door behind them. They had only narrowly escaped Filch and his cat, but Victoria had been practising a few distraction charms and had sent the duo on a pointless chase after a pair of shoes.

“Misses Rias!” an elf approached them, yellow apron distinguishing her from her peers. “What are yous doing here? Did yous not like your food tonight?”

“Litzy!” Astoria exclaimed cheerfully, eyes wide and innocent. “The food was _marvellous_ , but you know that our dear Ginny has been feeling down lately, and we thought that you might want to help us with a surprise we’re planning for her.”

The elf frowned at them for a few seconds; Litzy knew that their year had a tendency to get up to mischief that rivalled the Weasley twins’ pranks, but she was utterly weak for their little quartet, and Victoria was unashamed to admit that they knew how to turn that to their advantage – besides, they always found a way to thank the elf for her leniency and kindness.

“Is Missy Wheezy’s magic still being sick?” the elf asked.

Her magic? Next to her, Astoria’s eyebrows were furrowed in thought. Well, they’d get back to that later.

“She hasn’t been eating much,” Victoria explained. “We were hoping that you might know what her favourite things to eat are? She needs to get _something_ into that tiny body of hers.”

Litzy huffed but hurried away to stock them up on sweets and biscuits and anything else they might need. Victoria hoped that the elf wouldn’t forget to give them something to drink that _wasn’t_ pumpkin juice, but she didn’t want to offend her by suggesting that she had forgotten about her dislike for the beverage, so she stayed quiet.

They were gone in a matter of minutes, Litzy making them promise to stay out of trouble – they all knew that it wasn’t going to happen, but it made the elf feel better to at least _try_ to convince them.

“Do you even know the password?” Astoria whispered as they approached Gryffindor tower, where the other half of their group was waiting – well, Felicity was waiting, Ginny was probably just staring into space again.

“Of course I know the password,” she hissed at her friend, rolling her eyes. They arrived in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait and Victoria immediately smiled brightly. “Mimblewimble.”

Next to her, Astoria snorted derisively.

“You two aren’t lions,” the Lady frowned, refusing to budge.

“Really? My robes say that I am,” she pointed at her red-lined robes. “And I’ve given you the correct password, so aren’t you under some kind of obligation to let us through?”

They had planned this evening carefully, switching places with two of their Gryffindor yearmates and exchanging passwords and speaking quietly so as to not be overheard. Older students had confirmed that as long as they knew the secret word or phrase, they could enter the tower – the Fat Lady was just being difficult.

And indeed, a second later the portrait swung open with one last huff from its occupant. Astoria and Victoria thanked her happily and strode into the common room. Suddenly, Victoria was _extremely glad_ that she was a Hufflepuff.

Everything was so bright and red and gold and obnoxiously _loud_. Where the Hufflepuff den was cosy and the Slytherin dungeons were cold, the Gryffindor commons were an eyesore. The students didn’t seem to mind it, milling around and laughing around their fireplace, sprawling on the sofas and playing exploding snap. It was… nice, but very far from Victoria’s preferences.

“Next time,” Astoria muttered. “We’re sleeping in Hufflepuff. I refuse to come back here regularly, and I seriously hope Ginny appreciates the sacrifice that we’re making.”

The Hufflepuff snickered before sauntering towards the stairs; with the amount of Gryffindors coming up and down, it was easy enough to guess where the girls’ dormitories were, and it only took them a minute to reach the first years’ territory and burst into the room.

“Surprise!” Victoria exclaimed, grinning as Ginny turned towards them and gaped. “We bring gifts and offerings for our favourite lion!”

All the girls in the room brightened up at her words, and she took the time to supply everyone with at least a few items before jumping onto Ginny’s bed, still-full basket landing next to her and spilling sweets everywhere.

Felicity, who had been braiding Ginny’s hair, shook her head at the assortment – she was surprisingly disapproving of the other three girls’ sweet teeth – although Victoria could see the brunette’s lips twitch when she spotted the bag of grapes.

“What are you guys doing here?” Ginny finally asked, eyes still wide and disbelieving. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble?”

“Well, one of our friends hasn’t been feeling great,” Astoria pouted. “So we thought she might enjoy our company for the night. And no, of course not, we’ll only get into trouble if we get _caught_.”

The redhead’s features softened, and she turned away for an instant – they all deliberately ignored the tears in her eyes – before tackling them into a group hug. Victoria felt Astoria stiffen for a moment, but soon enough the quartet melted together into a pile of limbs and clothes.

* * *

It was well past midnight and most of the Gryffindor first-years had fallen asleep; but behind drawn curtains, a group of girls lay awake, none of them willing to end their perfect evening. Felicity couldn’t help the forlorn sigh that escaped her at the thought of having to go back to class the next day.

“What’s with the dramatic sigh, Felicity?” Astoria asked, lifting her hands above her head and staring at them as though they held the answers to the universe. Or maybe she was just admiring the nail varnish they had applied earlier.

“Just thinking,” the brunette replied quietly. “Maybe we should have done this during a weekend. I’m going to be _exhausted_ tomorrow.”

“You know, Hogwarts isn’t what I thought it would be,” Ginny admitted, a slight grimace twisting her lips. “Sure, I’m happy to be learning magic, but… Everything feels so _lacking_. Our professors never give lectures as good as Victoria’s, we spend weeks on the same spells, and I’m _always_ tired. I know that it’s because I’m sick or _something_ but even you guys look like you could use a few days of rest.”

“I have to agree,” Victoria frowned. “I mean, I’m not sure about my little speeches, but the professors could certainly use a bit more enthusiasm. I think the problem is that they’re just as tired as we are, and they’ve been at it for _years_. My dad showed me his schedule once and it’s absolutely _insane._ ”

“And your dad is actually one of the more competent ones,” Felicity pointed out, wrinkling her nose as she thought about a particular individual. “Lockhart, on the other hand.”

“An _idiot_!”

“Completely useless!”

“Grossly incompetent!”

Felicity giggled at her friends’ exclamations and sighed again. She had had such high hopes for Hogwarts, and although she was very grateful for the friends she had made and the changes that their year were putting in place, the education wasn’t as good as it was made out to be.

Their professors were passionate, but everyone could tell that they didn’t truly have the time to get to know their students and adapt their course to each individual. It was so _frustrating_ because they were clearly great at what they did, but they were being overworked. One teacher per subject? Felicity wanted to have a chat with whoever put that system in place.

“I worry about my dad sometimes,” Victoria said softly. “He never really wanted to teach, and the Headmaster asks a lot of him. He tells me that he’s _fine_ , but I don’t think that’s true. I only just found him, you know, and I don’t want to lose him. He’s just… always working, and I don’t think that’s healthy.”

If there was one thing that Felicity knew about Victoria from the time that they had spent together, it was that she cared a great deal about her father. The brunette couldn’t say that she really understood it – apparently, Victoria had been raised by her mother – but she also knew that there was more to the story than she was aware of.

However, she liked Professor Snape. He was a harsh taskmaster and didn’t accept fooling around, but he was fair to them and tried his best to explain when they struggled. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the man really _was_ overworked, as it seemed like he was always busy. As far as she knew, Victoria was only able to see the man outside of class for a few hours a week.

“There’s a lot wrong with the school,” Astoria broke the silence. “I mean, the house system is a good idea in theory, but most years take it too far and forget that it was put in place to create unity, not pit the students against each other. The professors are – for the most part – very competent, but they’re held at super high standards. And then there are those few teachers that are _horrible_ and stop us from gaining knowledge. It’s as though the foundations of the school were great but eventually faded away and left… this.”

“I’m so glad you’re here, Victoria,” Felicity said honestly. “Otherwise we would have turned out like everyone else, fighting over nothing and losing dozens of potential friends because of the colour of their robes.”

“I don’t think I’d have any friends at all,” Ginny whispered.

Felicity went to correct her but winced and refrained from saying anything when she realised that the redhead was quite probably correct. Had Victoria and Astoria not started their little campaign towards interhouse unity, it was unlikely that any of them would be friends, no matter how much they liked each other presently.

It took Felicity a few minutes to realise that Ginny had fallen asleep. She looked so young and fragile, and it suddenly hit Felicity that the girl was the youngest of their group, if not the youngest of their _year_. Being born in August meant that she was almost a full year younger than Victoria, and a few months behind the other two.

“I wish we knew what was wrong with her,” Astoria finally murmured, breaking the contemplative mood all three girls had fallen into. “Madam Pomfrey says that she’s fine, physically, but we all know that it doesn’t mean she’s okay _mentally_.”

It warmed Felicity’s heart, to hear the blond girl be so genuinely worried about their youngest friend. She had to admit that a small part of her had wondered whether a pureblood like her could accept and care for a Weasley, but Astoria had proved again and again that she liked Ginny just as much as she did Felicity – and perhaps a little less than she did Victoria, but that was to be expected. There was something about the raven-haired girl that _shone_ and made it hard to look away.

“For now, we just hope that it goes away,” Victoria said. “And if she’s still not alright by the time Christmas comes around, we’ll start searching and we _will_ find a solution. Worrying won’t make things better, so in the meantime we should just live and remind her of how _good_ life can be.”

“So our plans to plant the seeds of chaos are still on?” Astoria asked, her eyes lighting up excitedly.

Felicity perked up at the thought of the devilish things they had in mind for their professors and fellow students.

“Who do you take me for? Of course they’re still on.”

If anyone had looked at them then, they would have surely shivered at the looks on the three girls’ faces.

* * *

Ginny knew that her friends had talked about her after she had fallen asleep, because the next day, they very deliberately chatted about something else all through breakfast, making no mention of anything she had said the previous night. She appreciated their efforts and therefore decided to let it slide; she knew they were concerned, and it wouldn’t help anyone if she tried to make them stop.

Instead she smiled as they discussed the many plans that they were going to put in motion. Astoria called them the “seeds of chaos”, but Ginny thought that was a little bit inaccurate. Indeed, _some_ of their plans would only have consequences further down the line, but others were more like fireworks of change. The blond Slytherin grinned when she proposed the new and improved title.

“Do you think we’ll get into trouble?” Felicity asked as she spooned some porridge into her mouth. Ginny wrinkled her nose at the food and looked down at her waffles instead. “I mean, are we going to be breaking any rules?”

“I don’t think so,” Victoria shrugged. “I’ve been looking through the Hogwarts Charter – that is one _dry_ text by the way – and so far, I haven’t found a single thing that would forbid us from proceeding with our elaborate... fireworks.”

“And what about my little project?” the brunette continued, referring to their biggest plan to date, the one that seemed innocent enough, but had much more long-lasting consequences than the others. “I don’t want to be kicked out of Hogwarts because of it.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Ginny stated firmly. “I don’t care what anyone has to say, what you’re doing is _harmless_ and the fact that no one has noticed yet is a very good sign that they never _will_. And even if I am quite certain that they won’t, I’ll _leave this school_ if they decide to expel you over something so small.”

_Such fire, little girl_.

She shoved the voice away. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t know _why_ there was a boy inside her mind, but she wanted him to disappear and let her enjoy her time with her friends.

“Besides,” Victoria said reassuringly. “I’ve spoken to my father about… borderline rule-breaking, and he told me that a student had once attempted to _murder_ another student and hadn’t been kicked out. I’d say that our incredible, innovative, and _innocent_ prank doesn’t even come close to attempted murder, don’t you think?”

Felicity’s face looked like it was torn between relief and disbelief – surely, _attempted murder_ should have been enough to get someone expelled, right? – although the brunette eventually just sighed noisily and played around with her food.

“Just think about the confusion on everyone’s face when they realise what you pulled off,” Astoria grinned. “Sweet revenge for all of the essays that the professors have given us and will assign in the future. Undeniable proof that we are the best year that Hogwarts has seen in _decades_ , in _centuries_!”

Even Ginny’s lips twitched at the blond girl’s exclamation. Astoria was a strange mix of abnormally shy and extremely bubbly, and it had taken the redhead a few weeks to understand that the girl probably had problems when it came to social interactions. She was quiet and absent when confronted to people that she didn’t know or like but was the kindest and happiest person when they were between themselves.

Her eldest brother, Bill, had had a similar problem for a while after an incident at school. He had come back anxious and jumpy, and although he had eventually gotten better, he had explained that some people were different, and that was okay. Apparently, he had gotten to know a classmate of his who was always distant and had learned more about mental health issues from the experience.

Seeing Astoria so open and cheerful was always nice, because it reminded Ginny that she was close enough to the Slytherin to have earned her trust.

_Trust is fickle, Ginny, so easily broken_.

“I wonder _when_ they’ll notice,” Victoria wondered out loud, sipping at her tea – she never ate anything in the morning, said it made her queasy. “I wonder if they’ll ever get suspicious, but then again, I hope they don’t, because it would just be more proof that the teachers are being overworked. The board won’t know what hit them when we present everything to them.”

Sometimes, Ginny thought that Victoria had no idea how passionate she could sound, how much attention she could bring upon herself. The girl _hated_ being stared at, but her every move only made people want to look _more_. She spoke about their plans, and where Felicity and Astoria saw a harmless prank, Victoria saw a possibility to change things and make their small portion of the world better. It was incredible.

_She’s a child, she doesn’t know_ anything _about the world._

The redhead frowned and shook her head, trying to push the voice out once again. She was getting better at ignoring it, but it only seemed to make it more persistent.

“-ny. Ginny!” Felicity called out, waving a hand in front of Ginny’s face. She looked up and tried not to flush embarrassedly. She needed to stop getting stuck in her thoughts with that bothersome voice.

“We need to get to Potions class, Gin,” the brunette frowned, gesturing towards the small group of Gryffindor-Slytherin first-years who had started to leave the Great Hall.

Worried as she was about her zoning out, she barely registered the walk to the dungeons, sitting down in between her friends, and only managed to focus again halfway through Snape’s lecture.

The professor hadn’t said anything about her lack of attention, so Ginny assumed that her friends had covered for her – again – and invented some kind of ridiculous excuse about insomnia or illness or whatever it was that they had decided on.

_They act as though you don’t exist_.

Why was it back? She thought she had gotten rid of it, so why was it _back_?

“– adding them at the wrong time could prove disastrous, which is why you are to work in groups of three –”

_You haven’t written in a few days_.

She hadn’t written… hadn’t written where? In her diary? To Tom Riddle? She hadn’t even thought about the little black book or the enthralling boy in over a week. She didn’t need to speak to him; she had her friends.

“– five times as many as the original formula, in an effort to enhance its effects, and had to be treated in St Mungo’s for _years_ –”

_You’ve forgotten how good it feels, Ginny, didn’t it feel nice to talk to someone who listened to you_?

The girls listened to her. Felicity held her hand when they walked around, and Victoria braided her hair gently, and Astoria joked around until the redhead smiled. They listened even when she didn’t speak; they understood things even before she understood them herself. They wanted to help.

“– you get if you only added a single dose? Very good, Miss Eastchurch, two points to Slytherin –”

She wanted to cry. Her professor was fading in and out of her vision, of her hearing, of _everything_. He was there, and Felicity was there, and Astoria was there, but she couldn’t hear them anymore. They were there, but they weren’t.

_Rip, kill, tear, don’t you remember Ginny?_

The voice wasn’t there, but it was, _somehow_. She didn’t know what it wanted her to remember, didn’t know why it existed, didn’t know why she had forgotten about it only for it to come back stronger than ever. She didn’t want to write in the diary, and she didn’t want to remember. She wanted to trust and talk and spend time with her friends.

_Ginny_

Her hands were moving, she was cutting something, stirring something, but she didn’t know how. She was there, but she wasn’t.

_Ginny, the diary_

She didn’t _want_ the bloody diary! Tom Riddle was a memory who couldn’t do anything for her, couldn’t get rid of her headaches and her blackouts and who blamed others and mocked her, and she didn’t _want him_ anymore!

_But Ginny, don’t you miss me?_

* * *

Ginny hadn’t heard a single thing that had been said during the Potions class, of that Astoria was sure. The redhead had been lost in her mind, and even the professor had looked concerned when he had spoken to her and she hadn’t reacted at all.

Her eyes had been empty and glassy, and Astoria immediately knew that the headaches had started again. They should have expected it, with how far away she had seemed during their sleepover, but it still hurt to see her act so unlike the Ginny that they had gotten to know.

Such an… episode had already happened twice since Samhain. They only lasted a day, two at most, but they _terrified_ Astoria. It was like a complete personality flip, with a gradual loss of social interaction, and then – as though a switch had been activated – Ginny would be back.

She didn’t dare tell her other friends about her suspicions. Felicity and Ginny’s families were too light to consider such darkness, and Victoria tended to avoid the topics that were linked to her stepfather, but she wondered when they would realise that the situation reeked of _possession_.

She made it through Transfiguration thanks to sheer will, although the already impossible subject was only worsened by her distracted state of mind. The lesson was pure theory and Victoria was falling asleep in her seat – something that made the blond girl smile, no matter how preoccupied she was – but the professor didn’t look like she cared.

McGonagall was strange that way, unbearably strict at times and surprisingly indulgent at others. Astoria still hoped that the Gryffindor Head of House wouldn’t look at her or Victoria’s notes, because she would be sorely disappointed.

Flitwick didn’t say anything either when she spent the entire lesson lost in her own head, Victoria trying to nudge her awake when she didn’t even lift her wand to practise the day’s spell.

The day was a blur filled with possession-orientated worries and unsubtle looks towards Ginny; Astoria didn’t think she would retain a single thing that she had been told that day. Thankfully, the concern over their littlest lion covered up the blond girl’s preoccupied state well enough.

She regretted her absent-mindedness when the first-years entered the Slytherin common room after dinner. She told herself that if she had been more attentive during the day, they could have avoided it all.

Their little group was stopped as soon as the door closed behind them.

To the side, Astoria could see her older sister looking at her apologetically but not making a move to come to their help – for surely, nothing good was going to come out of this confrontation.

“Firsties,” that was Malfoy, and once again, Astoria wondered why the boy had so much _power_ within the house; she hadn’t seen him do anything particularly impressive, and his sneers seemed to be mostly for show. She didn’t think that the blond heir would ever dare hurt her – he never had before – but the look on his face was ugly and triumphant.

“We’ve let you run around freely,” an upper-year continued, cutting Malfoy off when he tried to speak again. “But your little dalliances need to _stop_. You do nothing to support Slytherin as a whole, you don’t win an extraordinary number of points, you give out help to Merlin-damned _Gryffindors_ , and you’ve shown no interest in house politics.”

None of them said anything; what answer could they give that would satisfy the older students without compromising their friendships?

“Nothing to say for yourselves?” the boy sneered. “No desire to show us even an ounce of respect?”

“Maybe we need to put them in their place,” Malfoy smirked – it was so unlike the cool indifference that Astoria was used to seeing on Theo’s face that she had to withhold a flinch. “We wouldn’t want our little firsties to think that it’s okay to disobey their betters, now would we?”

The older students grinned, and it suddenly occurred to Astoria that he had been _hoping_ for a more _hands-on_ confrontation. The first revelation was quickly followed by the realisation that no one was going to come to their aid.

A few metres away from her, Daphne and Theo were reading their textbooks and resolutely ignoring what was happening. The third and fourth-years were nowhere to be seen, and the other upper-years looked almost gleeful – whatever minority could have sided with them had undoubtedly folded to the group led by the boy in front of them.

Next to Astoria, Scarlett reached for her wand – and was promptly mirrored by Nerissa and their other housemates. Seconds later, their wands had been claimed by their opposition, the upper-years twirling them around carelessly.

Malfoy cast first – unsurprisingly – and Astoria winced as pain shot through her left arm. Thankfully, the _diffindo_ was too weak to cause any real harm, unlike the next – silent – hex that the ringleader threw at Nerissa. The girl screamed and anger coursed through Astoria’s veins.

“That’s what you get for forgetting your place, _mudblood_ ,” Malfoy snickered, sending another _diffindo_ their way.

After that, spells flew towards the group of first-years; none of them deadly or illegal, but every single one enough to crush bones and slice through skin. They hadn’t said anything for _three months_ and suddenly, they had a problem with the way they lived their lives?

Astoria couldn’t have described the rush of madness that made her blood sing at that moment; couldn’t have said whether it was ice cold or boiling hot, but as Scarlett held her right hand limply in her left one, the blond girl’s magic decided that it was _enough_.

She had been on edge all day, her magic sparking but her body refusing to let it out lest it hurt someone, her mind swirling with thoughts darker than anything she had ever dared mention – even in the privacy of her own head. She might not have been the type to showcase her talents, but Astoria _knew_ that she had power, and she _knew_ that it reacted explosively when provoked.

So when the upper-year cast another, stronger _diffindo_ her way, her magic pulsed out of her system in a single wave of pure power, sending spells back towards their attackers and overturning furniture, pushing people away and scorching their skin, encasing her friends in a single bubble of safety.

Malfoy’s eyes were wide and – for the first time – _afraid_ , and Astoria almost smiled at how lost he looked.

“I think,” she finally said softly – Scarlett would later tell her that she had sounded _dangerous._ “I think it’s time for us to go to our dorms. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to forget their place.”

The loathing in the unknown boy’s eyes flashed threateningly, but Astoria couldn’t be bothered to wonder about the consequences of her actions. The message was clear; if the first-years didn’t comply, they would not be welcome in the common room. She could only hope that her own warning had been understood; they weren’t afraid to retaliate, and it would take a lot more than a little intimidation scheme to get the smaller Slytherins to listen to the older ones.

The only person who dared to stop her as she walked towards the dorms – flanked by her injured friends – was her sister. Daphne’s eyes were wide and apologetic, but Astoria didn’t _care_.

“Ria,” her sister whispered. “You know that we couldn’t have done anything.”

The younger Greengrass snorted, exhausted and scared and worried and having absolutely no time for Daphne’s poor excuses.

“I rather think that you could have,” she replied just as quietly. “But you didn’t want to. At least have the decency to not deny your faults, big sister.”

Sapphire irises darkened in pain and Astoria tried to ignore her heart as it shattered; she loved her sister, trusted her and would do anything to protect her, but…

_Loyalty should_ always _go both ways_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And a big thanks to my sister @fall27 for betaing this story for me. We start diving in Ginny's problem (and therefore the main plot of CoS) next week, so canon is really about to be pushed aside. I've finally got a better idea of how long this year is going to be; it'll probably be a lot less detailed now that I've established my characters and the few most important plotlines. 
> 
> As I said before, I'm still writing every day and so far I haven't hit any type of writer's block so here's to hoping that everything continues to go well! I hope you guys like the length I've settled on for these chapters, and as always, don't hesitate to leave a comment, they really make my day!
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	9. Slytherin Minds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> Another week, another chapter! We're probably around halfway through the girls' first year and the pace is going to pick up starting next chapter. 
> 
> I'm back with another 3 perspectives; no surprise there. We're going to continue rotating between the same characters that we've gotten to know, so I hope you like them, because you're going to have to deal with them quite a lot! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Daphne didn’t know what to do.

The Yule holidays were approaching quickly, and yet Astoria still wasn’t talking to her or to Theo. The younger girl had completely shut them out and refused to even sit with them during meals; she spent all of her time with the Snape girl, the last Weasley, and an unremarkable student who Daphne thought was a Slytherin – she was  _ sure  _ that she had seen her in the common room a few times.

The two sisters had always been close, and now Daphne was lost. She had known that she would pay for her lack of action during the confrontation with Malfoy and Flint, but Astoria had never been one to hold a grudge, so Daphne had thought that her little sister would let her apologize and forgive her after a few days.

But Astoria had changed. She had grown up and met new people and she had changed, and Daphne couldn’t stop the resentment in her chest from spreading as she thought about the girls who had taken her sister away from her. The logical side of her brain  _ knew _ that the distance between Astoria and her was entirely her fault, but her heart was louder, stronger, always ready to jump out.

Her cold mask might have been perfected years ago, but the ice didn’t spread any further within her, and now she was paying for it; paying for the love she had allowed. She hadn’t been sleeping well, her casting was shoddy, her essays were subpar, and she had stopped caring about the worry in Theo’s eyes.

She knew that she shouldn’t let anger and jealousy fester, but she couldn’t help it. She looked at the Snape girl and hated how easily she made Astoria smile; she looked at the Weasley girl and wondered what her sister saw in a Gryffindor who didn’t follow their traditions; she looked at the dull girl and scoffed at how much better her sister could do.

The truth was, although the common room confrontation had been what truly set Astoria off, the two sisters hadn’t been as close as they used to be ever since the younger of the two had arrived at Hogwarts. In the safety of her own mind, Daphne could admit that she hadn’t acted against Malfoy because she had hoped to get her sister back.

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Theo asked her, and Daphne turned away from Astoria and the girls to look at him.

She  _ didn’t  _ want to be here; the duelling club was a joke, just like its creator. But Theo knew that and answering his question truthfully would only intensify the concern in his molten irises.

“I’m sure it’ll be interesting,” the blond girl said instead, her gaze already drifting back to the group of first-years huddled together at the back of the room. “Besides, everyone else is here, it would have been stupid to stay behind.”

_ Astoria is here _ was left unsaid, but the frown on Theo’s face told her that he had understood the message. He didn’t comment on it, and Daphne was glad; she was tired of hearing him berate her for her behaviour. She wasn’t obsessed with her sister’s life; she just wanted her to be safe.  _ Daphne  _ could keep her safe, unlike those friends of hers.

She kept an eye on the first-years as Lockhart and Snape – of all people, she wondered how he had been roped into this farce of a club – duelled and then asked them to practise disarming each other.

She kept an eye on the first-years as Theo disarmed her over and over again, glaring at her and telling her to focus. Astoria was paired up with the redhead and grinning widely as the Gryffindor managed to get a hold of her wand.

She kept an eye on the first-years as Malfoy and Potter duelled, as a snake was summoned, as someone shrieked and as Theo nudged her forcefully.

And so, when Potter started speaking in  _ parseltongue _ of all things, she was staring straight at the Weasley girl. Daphne’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped opened as the girl’s eyes turned  _ red _ .

She was far away, and the lighting wasn’t great, but for a fraction of a second, the redhead’s eyes had been pure fire, cold and dangerous, as she stared at the Potter boy. Theo hadn’t noticed anything;  _ no one  _ had noticed anything, too busy staring at their precious boy-who-lived, but Daphne wasn’t a fool, and she had grown up in an almost-dark household. Flashing eyes were  _ never  _ a good sign.

She didn’t even think about what she was about to do; marching towards her sister without a care for the people she had to push past. She grabbed the younger blonde’s arm harshly and dragged her out of the room, making sure that none of the other first-years were following them.

“What the hell, Daphne?” Astoria hissed as she was pushed into an empty classroom.

Daphne barely managed not to flinch at the unexpected tone – unexpected when it was aimed at her; it had  _ never  _ been aimed at her. She narrowed her eyes at her sister instead.

“I think we need to have a chat about your little friends,” Daphne said calmly.

“What? What on earth do you have to say about my friends? They’re all kind people who I trust, shouldn’t that be enough?”

“Do you really trust them? You’ve only known them for a few months, Astoria, and they’re already changing you. You’re spending all of your time with them and neglecting the people that you grew up with.”

“Merlin, is that what this is about? Petty jealousy now that you’re not the only person that I care about? What, would you have preferred for me to be alone and friendless so that I had to rely on you for everything? Change isn’t a bad thing, Daphne, in fact I’ve never felt  _ better _ .”

It hurt more than she cared to admit, to hear her little sister defend near-strangers and paint  _ Daphne  _ as the bad guy.

“Last year, you would have forgiven me for the small incident in the common room. But now you’re hanging out with these girls and you’re forgetting what  _ family  _ is. You know as well as I do that there’s no stopping Malfoy when he’s got something in mind. Besides, where were your friends when this happened, huh? I didn’t see your little brunette jump to help you. Why would you forgive  _ them _ , but not me?”

“They weren’t there, Daphne! Felicity wasn’t there, and neither were Victoria and Ginny. The first-years that  _ were  _ there however, my other friends like Scarlett and Nerissa, were by my side and getting hurt  _ just as I was _ . I haven’t forgiven them because there was nothing to forgive. I’ve always looked up to you, always thought that you were older and wiser, but whilst eleven-year-olds were being cursed, you stood aside because you thought it might make me  _ run back to you _ . I think, dear sister, that I’m not the only one who’s changed, but I might be the only one who’s changed for the  _ better _ .”

Her younger sister would have never said anything like that to her before Hogwarts; she would have sulked and pouted and frowned, but she would have never raised her voice. Astoria had never been vocal about things, especially when she was angry, and Daphne didn’t know whether to feel proud or heartbroken at how fast the other girl was growing up.

The green jealousy poisoning her mind decided on the latter.

“I don’t even recognize you anymore. Where is all of this coming from, Ria? Why are you distancing yourself from us?”

“I’m allowed to  _ live _ , Daphne.”

“Live and do what? End up alone? Because you thought it was wiser to trust a  _ possessed  _ girl rather than your sister?”

Daphne had never known how expressive her sister’s face could be until that moment, when she saw frustration turn to fear and panic then worry and finally resentment so clear that the older girl  _ had  _ to step away slightly.

“If I were you, I would be  _ very  _ careful about what I said next.”

“So you’re not denying it? Your little friend is weak and dying and very clearly possessed, and yet you still talk to her and let her into your circle! Why haven’t you told a professor about this?”

“Of course I’m not denying it, I  _ know  _ that you were taught the same things as I was as a child. That being said, my ‘little friend’ has a name, and I haven’t told anyone about Ginny because I’m a  _ Slytherin  _ and I want to make sure that I’m as prepared as I can be when I address the issue.”

“So that’s it then? You’re going to deal with this alone and shut me out again and spend your time with a possessed girl who might be the one  _ petrifying children _ . I should go and tell Professor Snape immediately. Imagine what he’ll have to say when he realises that his  _ daughter _ is friends with such a dark soul and that you  _ knew _ but didn’t do anything.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Their eyes locked and Daphne smirked slightly.

“I’m serious, Daphne, this isn’t any of your business. Ginny is  _ my  _ friend and I’m going to help her  _ without  _ ruining my other friendships along the way.”

“I think you’ll find that my sister’s life is  _ very much  _ my business.”

Silence. Astoria’s magic was sparking and swirling lazily around them. Daphne swallowed back the bitterness that threatened to overflow at the casual reminder that she didn’t have the raw power that her sister did.

“And I think you’ll find,” Astoria whispered, her voice sending chills down Daphne’s back. “That although I  _ will  _ forgive your first mistake, I won’t always be so kind,  _ sister _ .”

* * *

Severus sighed tiredly as the last student of the night left his office with a strict reminder to improve their grades. He cared about his Slytherins – truly, he  _ did _ – but being a Head of House was a lot of work, and he sometimes wondered if he was cut out for it.

His head ached as he remembered all of the things he would have to do and address after the Christmas holidays; he had noticed the antagonism directed at the first-years, and although he tended to stay out of inner-house conflicts, he had heard rumours flying around about a vicious attack directed at his youngest snakes, and he  _ refused  _ to accept bullying.

The second-years were just as difficult as ever; Draco Malfoy lost points right and left by getting into fights with Potter, Crabbe and Goyle’s grades weren’t going up no matter how much tutoring they received, Theodore’s home situation was getting worse by the minute, and now he had to deal with  _ Daphne Greengrass _ , a student who had always been an exemplary student until her sister’s arrival.

He rubbed at his eyes and almost groaned when he caught sight of the pile of essays waiting to be corrected before the holidays started, three days later. Sometimes, he questioned his own choices; why couldn’t he have waited a week longer to assign a paper to his sixth-years? After all,  _ he  _ was the one who got stuck correcting homework well into the night, not his students.

A timid knock broke him out of his musings and he briefly glared at the door before smoothing over his features and calling for yet another student to enter – his hours were  _ over _ , for heaven’s sake!

“Dad?” midnight eyes greeted him as he looked up and he couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face as his daughter entered the room and closed the door carefully behind herself.

“Victoria, what brings you here?”

The girl shrugged and Severus felt himself melt even further. He had quickly realised that his daughter had a habit of dropping by unannounced in the hopes of spending time with him for no reason in particular.

Having missed out on so much of her life, he was reluctant to deny her anything, even if it meant having to catch up on an evening’s worth of work later on. She was much more important than essays or wayward students, especially when she called him ‘dad’ in that hesitant tone – if it was strange for him to hear it, he couldn’t imagine how unusual it must be for her to say it.

“I was actually wondering about Christmas,” Victoria finally said, playing with her sleeves – her most obvious nervous habit. “I know that… I mean, if I understood correctly, I definitely won’t be going back to the Manor, so… I was wondering what we were going to do? Do you have to stay here during the holidays, or will we be going… home?”

The last word warmed his heart and he beckoned her closer, transfiguring a more comfortable chair for her to sit on – lavender, as it was her favourite colour.

Truthfully, although he would have liked nothing more than to go home with his daughter and spend uninterrupted time with her, they didn’t quite  _ have  _ a home yet. When he had found out about Victoria – and especially when he had realised that he would be getting her guardianship – he had immediately sold his house on Spinner’s End and started looking for a new one.

He had found the perfect home a few weeks earlier, but he hadn’t had the time to renovate and furnish it yet – he wanted it to be  _ perfect  _ when Victoria first saw it, nothing like the decrepit place he had lived in for most of his life or the cold manor she had grown up in.

“You definitely won’t be going back to the manor,” he agreed. “And in the future, I will try to find a way for us to leave Hogwarts during Yule so that we may celebrate privately, however our home is not ready yet, so we will have to make do with my quarters this year. The castle was more than willing to extend my rooms so that you could stay here instead of in the dorms during the holidays, but if you wish to remain with your friends, I will understand.”

He would be disappointed, but Victoria didn’t need to know that. He wanted her to spend time with him because she  _ wanted  _ to, not because he had forced her to. Besides, he was rather hopeful that she would agree to his proposition; she had never refused to explore their familial bond before.

“I would love that,” she said quietly, her lips stretching into a pleased smile. “Do you have any special family traditions for Yule?”

Severus’ smile widened. The discovery that Victoria was as traditional as him shouldn’t have surprised him – Melody’s family was sure to have taught her as much as they could – but it was still pleasant to know that his daughter followed the same school of thought as he did.

“We do, actually,” he told her, smirking as her eyes sparkled excitedly – she was endlessly curious, just as he had been. “Your grandmother rarely used magic, but even she wasn’t able to let go of our ceremonies and festivities. The Prince family colours are silver and midnight blue – the same exact shade as our eyes, in fact – and we stick to them all year round, which means we use them to decorate trees and logs and houses during Yule. We also have plenty of family heirlooms that have made their way to me and add to our Magics when performing rituals. And on top of that, my mother mixed in some of the muggle traditions that my father insisted upon and we exchanged more gifts on the morning of the 25 th . I haven’t… done most of these things in a long time, but I’m looking forward to continuing the Prince traditions with you.”

Victoria was looking at him intently, gaping slightly, and Severus sighed when he saw tears slowly making their way down his daughter’s cheeks; he hadn’t meant to make her cry.

He got up from his seat and crouched down in front of her chair, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear and cupping her small face in his left hand.

“Victoria,” he said softly, urging her to meet his gaze and smiling when she did. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I had known about you earlier, so that we could have celebrated properly all these years, but I promise you that we’ll make up for lost time.”

At his words, the young witch threw herself into his arms and Severus embraced her tightly, swearing that he would protect her from anyone who ever tried to hurt the daughter he had grown to love so easily.

“And they’ll never take me away?” she asked softly, her voice muffled as she let her head rest on his shoulder.

“Not if I can help it,” Severus answered fiercely, pulling away and looking at his daughter seriously – he wanted her to understand how important this was. “You know that the guardianship issue hasn’t been settled yet, don’t you?”

She nodded; her lips turned downwards.

“We both know that there is an extremely high chance that I will win, no matter how many friends Darius has, but I want you to know something. If I lose, I will do  _ anything  _ to make sure that you don’t see him again. I will quit my job and run away and kidnap you and do all sorts of illegal things, if only to see you  _ safe _ . I don’t know if you understand, Victoria, that you are the most precious person in my life.”

She was crying again, but her smile was clear and bright. Severus had never thought that he could feel so  _ deeply _ , especially not after the war, but his daughter had broken through all of his walls and protections and reminded him that he could care and love and that he  _ had  _ someone.

He had a beautiful twelve-year-old daughter who had his eyes and his hair, his talent for potions, his smile and his frown, his nervous habits, and who looked at him like he mattered. He had a smart and witty daughter who laughed and joked and admired him and was slowly learning to  _ trust him _ , no matter how hard her life had been.

“I love you, dad.”

He had a daughter who  _ loved him _ and who respected the traditions he adored, who would give him what his parents had never been able to – a family. And he’d be damned if he didn’t give her the exact same thing.

“I love you too, sweetheart; so, so much.”

A few minutes later, they were both sitting down again, mugs of hot chocolate warming their hands and a plate of cookies in between them.

“Dad?”

Severus hummed around a mouthful of whipped cream – a guilty pleasure he would  _ never  _ tell anyone about, Victoria being a very special exception.

“If Darius hadn’t been… treating me badly, would you still have tried to win guardianship over me?”

The Potions Master frowned at her question; it seemed innocent enough, but Severus had dealt with his fare share of abused students, and he had  _ been one _ , once upon a time. Questions about abusers were  _ never  _ innocent, never easy, never straightforward.

“Sweetheart, if Darius had been a better person, I don’t know if you would have  _ wanted  _ to be taken away from the only family you had ever known. But I would have loved you even then, Victoria, and I would have talked with your mother to see if we could arrange something, and I would still have been your  _ father _ .”

A pause.

“So you don’t just want me to get back at mum or something? This isn’t just… revenge?”

“Revenge?”

“For keeping me away from you all this time. I just… You’re doing this because of  _ me _ , right? Not because of anything else?”

It was an absurd question, but Severus remembered when  _ he  _ hadn’t been able to understand why anyone would want him for  _ him _ , when he hadn’t been able to believe that he was worth any type of effort. Victoria’s abuse, although it had been physical at times – oh, and Severus couldn’t  _ wait  _ for the bastard to get what he deserved – had been mental, first and foremost.

She would have to be taught that she wasn’t worthless, that she was special, and that there were  _ so many  _ people out there who would love her.

“I swear on my life and on my magic that I’m doing this because I care about you, sweetheart,” he smiled at his daughter. “Because I am incredibly lucky to have you in my life, and I want to get to know you and guide you and look after you.”

Oh, how he adored those midnight eyes when they shone like that.

“I’m really lucky to have you too, dad.”

How he adored  _ her _ .

* * *

Astoria twirled her wand diligently as she thought about her latest problem. The pillow in front of her was warm – proof that her latest charm had worked perfectly, and that Flitwick couldn’t chastise her for daydreaming, nor could he say anything about Victoria, who was practising the colour-changing spell on her gloves.

Thinking about her friend only accentuated the twinge of guilt that had been bothering her for a little over a week; everyone would be leaving for the Yule holidays less than a day later, and Astoria still hadn’t told Victoria and Felicity about her suspicions concerning Ginny.

She knew that her sister would corner her again during their time at the manor, and that their parents would notice the tension between the two girls who were usually so close, and she didn’t want to have to deal with anything  _ else _ on top of her family. If she told her friends about the possession issue, they would surely be willing to help her find a solution, right?

The truth was, she didn’t want her friends to think any less of her simply because she knew a little bit more about the dark arts than she should. Would they judge her for recognising the signs of possession so easily? Or worse, would they  _ suspect _ her?

Sometimes, she wondered whether she was the only one who  _ thought  _ so much. Did everyone else struggle as much as she did to put her feelings into words? Did everyone else doubt themselves for days before speaking up? Or was this another product of her anxiety coming to bite her from behind?

Strangely enough, that thought was enough to gather the spark of Gryffindor courage that the Sorting hat had seen in her – and wouldn’t her sister just love to know that her second house option had been  _ Gryffindor _ ?

“Vic,” she said quietly, not wanting to attract the professor’s attention. “I need to tell Felicity and you something after class.”

Victoria frowned slightly but ended up shrugging.

“Sure, Ria,” the raven-haired girl said simply. “The Gryffindors have Defence next period, so Ginny will be busy. We’ll just have to grab Felicity when they leave McGonagall’s room of hell.”

Astoria snorted at her friend’s nickname for the transfiguration teacher’s classroom and narrowed her eyes when Victoria smiled smugly – the girl really had a way of knowing when someone was feeling down and cheering them up.

“Miss Greengrass, Miss Snape,” Flitwick called out from his desk. The two girls winced but turned to look at him. “If you’ve both completed the work for today, you may leave. Your classmates certainly don’t need the distraction. And two points to Slytherin and Hufflepuff for mastering the spell as quickly as you did.”

Victoria grinned and thanked the professor, gathering her belongings and hurriedly leaving the room. Astoria rolled her eyes at her friend’s enthusiasm but smiled gratefully at Flitwick – who was quickly becoming her favourite teacher – and followed Victoria.

“Come on Ria, if we hurry, we’ll be able to catch Felicity as soon as McGonagall lets them out!” the older girl said, her longer legs making it hard for Astoria to catch up.

By the time they reached the fifth floor, Astoria was slightly out of breath, but classes were only  _ just  _ finishing, and the two friends were easily able to spot Felicity as the brunette exited a classroom with Ginny by her side.

“Felicity! Gin!” Victoria waved at the pair. “Sorry Ginny, I know you usually walk to defence class with Felicity, but we need to make a few adjustments for your Yule present, and like idiots we left it to the last minute, so would you mind it if we stole her away?”

She had pulled out the puppy eyes – honestly, Victoria was the perfect blend of Slytherin and Hufflepuff, and Astoria was sure that she would have fit in just as well with the snakes as the badgers.

The dark-haired girl’s lying talents payed off when Ginny just laughed and told them that it was fine, as they’d see each other at dinner anyways.

“So, what was that about?” Felicity asked when the redhead had left with the other first-years. “I was actually planning on going to that class, you know.”

“Right,” Victoria snickered. “As if you’d willingly subject yourself to any more Lockhart than the strict minimum. Besides, Ria has something serious to tell us about.”

Immediately, both girls turned to look at Astoria, who blushed and pushed them into the closest abandoned classroom – it was never hard to find one of those, as it seemed Hogwarts had more empty rooms than active ones – before casting a strong locking spell that her sister had taught her on the door.

“Right, so,” Astoria started. “I’ve just… There’s something you guys need to know before we leave for the holidays because, well, it’s…”

“This is about Ginny, right?” Felicity interrupted briefly.

“Yes, right,” Astoria nodded. “We all know that she’s not okay, even though she has quite a few good days. Thing is, I think I know what’s wrong, and I’ve had my suspicions for a while but I didn’t want to freak you guys out if it turned out that I was wrong, but then Daphne approached me and she thinks the same thing and… It’s going to sound crazy, and you guys might not like it because it’s not…”

“Ria,” Victoria sighed. “Just tell us what’s going on.”

“Right. I think Ginny’s being possessed. And don’t look at me like that! Listen! Do you remember the Halloween feast, when she wasn’t there? She was never able to tell us where she had been, and I think it’s because she  _ doesn’t know _ . She had another blackout earlier this month and well… Both times match up with the petrifications. I don’t think Ginny would harm anyone, but someone else in her body?”

“It would explain the mood swings,” Felicity admitted quietly.

“And the lack of sleep, and her constant daydreaming,” Victoria murmured.

“That’s not what really convinced me though,” Astoria told them, wincing slightly. “Daphne told me that she saw Ginny’s eyes flash  _ red _ during the duelling club when Potter and Malfoy were fighting.”

Her friends’ eyes darkened, and Astoria knew that they were all thinking the same thing; with so much evidence, it was impossible to deny that possession was  _ extremely  _ likely. The blond girl had tried to find another explanation, but…

“Damn it,” Felicity swore.

“Do you…” Victoria started. “Do you have any idea what might be possessing her? Is it someone in the school? How  _ dangerous _ is this?”

“I’m not sure,” Astoria sighed. “If this person is hurting students, it’s got to be pretty bad. It’s why I told you guys. Daphne’s threatening to tell your dad, Victoria, and I don’t want to do that just yet. We need to find a solution that won’t harm Ginny but that’ll get rid of whatever entity is controlling her.”

“Hopefully the holidays will be good for her,” Felicity said. “And it’ll give us enough time to do a little extracurricular research. My dad has some pretty obscure tomes, I’ll try to see if there are any rituals or potions that could help.”

“My family’s library is quite… dark,” Astoria added. “So I’m sure I’ll be able to find some basic information about possession and, if we’re lucky, a solution.”

“I won’t be able to do much,” Victoria said. “I’m staying here with my dad, and I don’t want him to start asking me questions before we’re ready to tell him anything. We should also try to figure out who’s possessing her.”

Astoria and Felicity nodded; that was probably the most important thing.

“It’ll be okay, right?” Felicity whispered.

“Right,” Victoria answered, voice trembling.

“It has to be,” Astoria said, her hands clenched tightly.

None of them wanted to think about what might happen to their best friend if they didn’t fix her increasingly alarming problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And thanks to my sister @fall27 for helping me edit the chapter, as always. I've been really happy with the latest chapters, and I surpassed my own expectations this week by completing not one but two full (and long!) chapters! I'll still be posting one every week, but if I manage to write another 10k words in a week, you might want to look out for a double update (;
> 
> Your kudos and bookmarks mean the world to me, I'm so glad to see more and more of you reading this fic and enjoying it! So don't hesitate to leave comments & kudos, even if it's just to point out a mistake or rant about a character! 
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	10. Yule Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> So I had a week of holidays at the end of February and ended up writing a lot more than I usually do, which is why I decided to split this chapter into two. I might post the second part earlier than usual, so keep an eye out for it, but otherwise I'm keeping to the normal schedule.
> 
> This was one of my favourite chapters to write and I'm very happy with how it turned out so hopefully you like it as well. We're approaching the end of the story, I'm still not sure about the exact number of parts, but I think I'm aiming for a total of around 15 chapters (I'll tell you guys when I'm a little bit more certain!)
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy!

The winter holidays had started a few days ago, and Victoria still wasn’t used to seeing Hogwarts so  _ empty _ . It was strange to enter the Great Hall and be greeted with a single table around which were seated barely more than two dozen people.

Living with her father had also been quite the change; the man had promised her that she could talk to him whenever she wanted to, but Victoria couldn’t help but feel like she would be intruding on his free time or bothering him when he had more important things to do. There had been a few times when she had  _ almost  _ approached him, but she had given up at the last second and retreated back to her bedroom.

_ Her _ bedroom, in her  _ father’s  _ quarters. A room just for her, with lavender sheets – her heart had warmed when she had realised that her father had remembered such a  _ small  _ thing about her – and enough space for her to settle and spread and…

It was a little bit too much for her to take in at once. Her father gaining guardianship was one thing, and admitting that he cared was another, but seeing proof of his words? It made Victoria wonder about a life in which she had always had him, in which she had always been put first and looked after and…  _ loved _ .

She looked up from her book and towards the man, who was sitting at his desk and frowning at a stack of essays. His endless stream of work was the main reason why Victoria was reluctant to steal her father away; he had enough to deal with as it was, surely, he didn’t need a whiny daughter on top of that?

The dark-haired girl sighed silently and buried herself deeper into the sofa – her father’s quarters were so _ cosy _ ; it was sometimes hard to associate the rooms to the man.

For the hundredth time since the holidays had started, Victoria wondered if she would ever find the courage to ask her father about his personal library and whether or not she was allowed to borrow books from it. He was  _ right there _ , for Merlin’s sake.

But the hat had not even  _ considered  _ Gryffindor for Victoria, and she was acutely reminded of  _ why _ . Instead of speaking up, she looked back down at her book and tried to focus on the mechanic behind animal-to-object transfiguration. She was quite sure that she had been stuck on the same page for over an hour, and she had to hold back a groan of misery.

“Victoria,” her father’s voice startled her badly enough that she jumped up and dropped her book.

Circe, she was much too stressed about this situation.

“Victoria, sweetheart,” her father repeated, his voice as kind and gentle as it always was when they were alone. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” she lied, picking up her book and determinedly  _ not  _ looking at him.

“You don’t have to talk to me about it if you don’t want to,” her father sighed. “But please don’t lie to me; you’ve been staring at that book aimlessly for at least an hour.”

For a moment, Victoria wondered whether or not the man was using legilimency on her; she knew that he was capable enough to do it without her noticing – her mother had told her  _ some  _ things about her father, although her facts had always been disconnected and rare. But even knowing that, she didn’t think that he would read her mind without her consent – or at least, she hoped not.

“Sorry,” she muttered, closing her book and standing up, wincing as her knees cracked. “I’m not used to this.”

Her father sighed again before putting down his quill and coming to stand in front of her. Another person might have described it as  _ looming,  _ but Victoria could clearly see the concern and regret in the man’s eyes, so his position didn’t intimidate her in the slightest.

The hands that settled on her shoulders were becoming increasingly familiar and she didn’t even flinch at the sudden added weight – unlike the first few times, after which her father had apologised profusely.

“I’m not used to this either,” the potions master reminded her. “It’s going to take some time for us to feel like a family, sweetheart, but if you keep shutting me out, we won’t get  _ anywhere _ .”

Shame rose within Victoria at the words; she knew that her father was trying his best to make her feel at home, but she kept pushing him away and reinforcing the barriers around her heart. It was an unfair thing to do, especially since she knew that the man had carefully lowered his own defences in order to make her feel safer.

“I know I’ve been busy with papers and homework and brewing,” her father grimaced. “But how about I take this afternoon off? We can go to the Forbidden Forest and find a log for Yule, and we can visit Gringotts to take out the things we’ll need from my family’s vault.”

“That sounds… quite nice. But dad, I… I don’t want to keep you away from all the important things you have to do. I don’t want you to lose even more sleep and get even less free time because of me!”

Because  _ that _ was the real problem. She could bear his judgement and his disappointment, and even his lack of attention, but she didn’t know if she could stand knowing that she had caused her father more grief than what he already had to deal with.

“You have so much to do,” she continued. “I’ve seen your schedule, and I know that there are days when you can’t even  _ eat _ because you have too many classes. For Merlin’s sake, you even work on Saturdays! And then you have hundreds of essays to grade and Slytherins to deal with, as well as potions to brew for the infirmary, staff meetings to attend every few weeks, and you bloody well have to sleep at some point! You’re already  _ so tired _ , dad, and I don’t want you to become my guardian if it means that you’ll get ill because of me.”

Her father’s eyes had softened as she spoke, and his lips had quirked upwards a little bit, so Victoria knew that she hadn’t offended him, but she still clapped a hand over her mouth as she realised how much she had told the man.

“Oh, Victoria,” her father huffed. “Only you would care more about my well-being than your own. I won’t disagree and say that I don’t have a lot on my plate, because that would be a lie, but I need you to understand that having you in my life doesn’t make that harder  _ at all _ . I’ve noticed how quiet you are when I’m at my desk, and don’t think I haven’t realised that you’ve been dosing my morning tea with Pepperup. You don’t cause any trouble, and you’re always willing to help. But more than anything, sweetheart, you motivate me to work more than anyone else ever has, because I  _ want  _ to spend time with you. You wouldn’t be taking away my free time, you would just be sharing it with me.”

Victoria frowned but didn’t interrupt him as he spoke; if he said that he was doing okay, that he was doing  _ better  _ thanks to her, then…

“You’re allowed to ask questions,” he said firmly. “You’re allowed to make noise and talk to me. And if I’m ever under too much stress, I’ll  _ let you know _ . Don’t worry about me too much, sweetheart, okay?”

“Right, okay,” Victoria said softly, fidgeting under her father’s fond gaze. “So, should we go choose that log, then?”

The answering chuckle told her that the man hadn’t been fooled by her poor attempt at distraction, but he let it go and went to grab their winter cloaks, clearly deciding that they had covered enough ground for a single conversation.

* * *

_ Dear Victoria, _

_ Happy solstice! I hope that the Yule season is treating you well and that you’ve been spending plenty of time with your father. I know that you were worried about staying with him for the holidays, but I hope that the two of you have been getting to know each other and that things aren’t too awkward. _

_ I’m sure that you’ll have noticed the parcel that Irene – I know, I know, such a pretentious name for an owl – brought you alongside this letter. We won’t be able to give each other as many gifts as Yule usually calls for in my family – although maybe your father’s traditions are different – but I hope you’ll accept and enjoy this present and the other that I have planned to offer you later. _

_ It’s nothing too fancy, but I saw it and thought of you, so I couldn’t resist buying it. Let me know what you think! _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Astoria Greengrass _

_ PS: any progress on our little side project? _

_ *** _

_ Dear Astoria, _

_ Happy solstice to you too! I hope that this letter reaches you before the end of the day; I’ve been assured that Serpens – I could never make fun of your owl’s name when my father’s has an even more ridiculous one, I mean honestly! The lack of creativity! – is a fast bird. _

_ May Magic bless you on this holy day, and may our gods reward you for the happiness that you spread on our Earth! _

_ The gift was perfect, Ria! The earrings match my eyes perfectly – I can’t believe you were able to remember them so clearly – and even my father complimented your taste. My family traditions don’t involve that much gift-giving, but I was planning on sending something along at a later date, so keep an eye out for that! _

_ Thank you for all the well wishes; you’ll be glad to know that my father and I have been getting along splendidly, especially after we had a ‘serious’ talk a few days ago. He’s been… very kind. He told me that I was allowed to read all the books in his library – I suspect that the darker ones have been hidden away carefully – and we decorated a Yule log together today. _

_ What about you? How are things going with your sister? I know that you said you were alright, but we both know that you miss talking to her about everything. I really hope you guys are able to reconcile before the end of the holidays, but we’ll be here for you if things are still tough between the two of you. _

_ With love, _

_ Victoria Snape. _

_ PS: the only thing that stood out to me is the fact that whoever’s possessing Ginny reacted to parseltongue. I don’t want to be pessimistic, but it seems quite probable that our target is linked to you know who, somehow. _

_ *** _

_ Dear Victoria, _

_ Happy Yule! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to answer your letters – Astoria’s been hounding me for  _ days  _ now, who knew she could be so persistent? – but my parents were super happy to have me home, and I’ve been stolen away to spend the holidays with my mother’s extended family – muggles, which means no magic for me. I haven’t had  _ any  _ free time until now, so hopefully you’ll forgive me for not contacting you earlier. _

_ I’m glad to hear that things are going well with your father – I have to admit that the girls and I were a tiny bit worried – and that his family’s traditions don’t clash with the ones you grew up with. I’m a little bit jealous; being in the muggle world with my muggle family means that my dad and I have to sneak away from the rest of the family to do everything. _

_ I’m used to doing gifts on the first day of Yule, so Pythagoras – I think I win the contest of the owl with the stupidest name – should have brought you my family’s traditional three presents. I hope you like them! (Oh, one of them is from my dad, he insisted). _

_ Astoria caught me up on what you told her about the  _ thing _. I hate to agree with you, but… Yeah, I agree with you. It had floated through my mind, but I didn’t want to think about it too much; I’m glad I’m not the only one who had this particular idea. I feel like I’m forgetting something super important about Ginny, like the answer is right in front of me and just slipping through my fingers… I’m hoping that this time away from it all will give me a new perspective on things. _

_ Love, _

_ Felicity _

_ PS: have you gotten anything from our favourite Gryffindor? I sent her a letter yesterday, but I haven’t heard from her since the holidays started. _

* * *

The first week of the holidays ended on Christmas day. Victoria couldn’t believe how quickly time went by when she was having fun and relaxing, and she was already dreading the day when classes would start again; she had slowly gotten used to living with her father and being able to chat with him whenever she wanted, so she had to admit that she would miss him when she had to go back to the dorms.

Thankfully, the festive mood that permeated the air kept her gloomy thoughts away, and she spent the day on Hogwarts’ grounds, getting into snowball fights with the few other first-years who had opted to stay at the castle for the holidays.

By the time she entered the Great Hall for the Christmas feast, she was exhausted but extremely satisfied. Her friends and her were all grinning and chattering happily as they took their seats, and Victoria blamed their common excitement for her unfortunate placement.

Unlike the other days, when she had managed to stay close to her father and away from the students she disliked, she found herself stuck next to the famous Golden Trio, a few seats across from Malfoy, and in proximity to Dumbledore and  _ Lockhart _ .

The amused look her father was sending her way did  _ not _ make her feel any happier, and she stuck her tongue out at him childishly, pouting when he only laughed loudly – although the Gryffindors’ terrified faces were almost worth it.

“… has to be proof enough,” Granger was saying. Victoria  _ tried  _ to tune the girl and her little friends out, but they were whispering so loudly, it was almost as if they were  _ begging  _ to be overheard.

“… Malfoy said… weren’t there,” the Potter boy answered.

Victoria stabbed at her food, staving off a rising headache and desperately focusing on her friends’ conversation instead.

Which was, of course, when Malfoy decided to butt in with his  _ completely _ unasked for opinion. Victoria had never talked to the boy, but Astoria had told her about the confrontation she had had with him, so the dark-haired girl disliked him on principle. And she  _ hated _ how he weaselled his way into the first-years’ business.

“… would never accept this! I can’t believe how far your year has fallen, mingling as though you were all  _ Hufflepuffs _ .”

Right, another reason to dislike the boy; he was one of those students who believed that her house was for the rejects, the worthless boys and girls who didn’t fit in anywhere else. They were fools; Hufflepuffs were so much more than a bunch of misfits with no purpose in life. Her housemates – and especially her yearmates – were kind and passionate people who worked hard to achieve their dreams.

But clearly, Malfoy’s little world hadn’t extended past his own nose and his misplaced sense of superiority was as strong as ever.

“… ball at my manor is  _ much  _ grander. My parents would be absolutely horrified at the lack of decorum and respect for our traditions. Not that any of you  _ children  _ would know about those.”

What a  _ prick _ , Victoria thought, sneering slightly at the blond boy but turning away once she was sure that he wasn’t harming or insulting any of her friends.

She tried to block out the noises around her, thinking that she could make it through the feast unbothered if she just willed it, but it wasn’t meant to be. Seconds after she stopped listening to Malfoy, she was assaulted by the sound of…

“… absolutely incredible, fans from all over the world came over to my house in the morning and sung an ode to my magnificence. I almost teared up, but my smile never left my face, and that’s how I won the title for a fifth time. Truly wonderful, Albus.”

“I’m sure it was, Gilderoy. There’s beauty in being loved, isn’t there? Especially for your own achievements. It’s always good to know how much our work inspires others.”

What on  _ earth  _ had she done to deserve this? Which god had she angered? Surely, she hadn’t been bad enough to have to suffer through a full dinner filled with inane conversations and pretentious boys? There had to be a reason for her pain, right?

“… don’t think it could be Snape, do you?”

A reason indeed. What business did the Golden Gryffindors have with her father?

“ _ Professor  _ Snape, Ronald. And after last year, maybe you should be a little bit more careful about your accusations. He’s a member of staff; I’m sure the headmaster wouldn’t hire someone who wanted to  _ kill  _ muggleborns.”

“Hermione’s right, Ron. Besides, if it was Snape, Malfoy would…”

Victoria glared at Lockhart as he knocked over a dish and cut off Potter’s next words. Of course he managed to distract her from the single interesting thing that had happened all evening.

“… his daughter?”

Suddenly, three pairs of eyes were staring at her. She hadn’t heard their full conversation, but she was smart enough to know that they suspected her of something – and given the rumours that had been going around about Potter, it wasn’t hard to guess  _ what _ , exactly, they thought she was responsible for.

“A problem?” she asked calmly, raising an eyebrow – she knew how alike her father the expression made her look.

“Nothing that concerns you, little Snape,” Weasley snapped at her.

“Really?” she scoffed. “Because I could swear that the three of you were discussing my father and I only moments ago.”

“Eavesdropping much?” Granger said imperiously.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” Victoria answered. “It’s not my fault that you decided to have a private conversation in public where  _ anyone  _ could hear you.”

“Mind your own  _ business _ , Snape!” Weasley exclaimed, his face turning as red as his hair. “I bet it really  _ is  _ you! It would be just like your kind to gather friends and petrify them for fun!”

Victoria wondered, not for the first time, how a girl like Ginny could be related to a boy like  _ Ronald Weasley _ .

“Watch your tongue, Weasley,” she hissed. “And stop making baseless accusations, it’ll only get you on everyone’s bad side.”

“See! You’re not even denying it!” the boy cried out.

“Did Granger not get you a dictionary for Christmas?” Victoria chuckled. “I meant that  _ you  _ accusing  _ me _ is the same thing as everyone else accusing your dear best friend. Although, at least they have a sound reasoning, what with the parseltongue and all that.”

And just like that, there was a wand pointed at her forehead and an angry redhead with blazing blue eyes glaring at her.

“Take that back, you slimy snake!”

She would have replied, truly, there was a scathing but harmless insult at the tip of tongue, however…

“Mr. Weasley,” a silky voice cut in smoothly. Victoria smiled as she felt her father move to stand behind her. “That will be 50 points from Gryffindor for pulling out your wand on a  _ younger, unarmed  _ student.”

Somehow, Weasley got even  _ redder _ at the professor’s words, and Victoria smirked smugly as the boy realised that anything he did would only lose him more points.

“I’ll be in our quarters, Victoria,” the potions master added softly. She nodded and was about to follow him out of the hall when the quietest member of the trio spoke up.

“I bet he only took those points because she’s his  _ daughter _ . Completely unfair, if you ask me.”

“Must be nice, having your father around to protect you,” Weasley added, staring straight at Victoria. “You wouldn’t be looking so  _ proud _ if we were alone.”

“Careful, Weasley,” she sneered. “That sounded dangerously like a challenge. And trust me, you and your faulty wand  _ definitely  _ don’t want to see me when I’m actually pissed and trying to do damage. You can’t accuse me of being dark enough to harm others but then assume that I don’t know dangerous Magics; it’s one or the other,  _ Ronald _ .”

She didn’t stay to hear his response; the boy wasn’t a bad person, but he was so  _ immature,  _ and Victoria would rather be drinking hot chocolate with her father than listening to a Gryffindor with more bark than bite.

She could ask Ginny to put her brother back in his place later on; the girl was a  _ genius _ when it came to hexes, and even more so when the victims were a particular set of redheads.

* * *

_ Dear Astoria, _

_ After a week with our muggle family, my parents and I have finally gone back to our flat, so I should be able to send letters a little bit more frequently. I still haven’t heard from Ginny, which is one of the reasons I’m writing to you instead… I’m worried about her, and I don’t think there’s anything we can do to help her besides showing her that we care. _

_ I’m so glad that Daphne and you finally had a serious talk and sorted things out! I know it won’t be the same as it used to be, but the tiniest step is still progress, and I’m hopeful that you’ll become close again soon. _

_ I can’t believe you never told us that you had a brother! I would have sent him a card or something; it must be tough being the youngest sibling and seeing everyone else have fun at school while you’re stuck at home… _

_ Now, as much as I wish I could only write about harmless topics… I found a book in my dad’s office when we came home – I hope he never finds out that I borrowed it because I would be in  _ serious  _ trouble – and it’s darker than anything I’ve ever read. I think it belongs to one of his clients; it wouldn’t be the first time he has to deal with dangerous objects for work. _

_ Point is, there’s a small section on possession through inanimate objects, and I think it’s quite likely that that’s what we’re dealing with in Ginny’s case. I think someone would have noticed if a physical person was doing something to her, so an object infused with dark magic seems more likely. Tell me if you find anything else and I’ll do the same over here (we both know that Victoria is too busy with her father to  _ really _ do any kind of research, not that I can blame her). _

_ Love, _

_ Felicity _

_ PS: Did you hear about Victoria’s confrontation with Weasley? Who knew that she had it in her to pull something like that off? I would have  _ payed  _ to see her fight him. _

_ *** _

_ Dear Felicity, _

_ I haven’t heard from Ginny either, but I think it might just be because she’s busy with her family. Besides, none of us are from especially light families, and I’m not sure that she feels completely comfortable talking about us with her parents – or even her brothers, you know that they can be quite overbearing. If something was really wrong, I think that she would have told us, and if she’s hurt… well, we’ll find out soon enough – although I don’t think she’s hurt! So don’t get all paranoid! _

_ Daphne and I have been spending a little bit more time together, trying to… fix things, and Thomas is really helping. He’s very sweet – I wouldn’t be surprised if he joined Victoria’s house rather than mine, honestly – and knew that something was wrong, so he’s been doing his best to make us happy. I hope you’ll be able to meet him soon; he loves hearing about my friends. _

_ Theo is coming over tomorrow, so I suppose there’s another hard conversation in my near future. I don’t want to hold a grudge, so I know I’m going to forgive him, especially since his home life isn’t the best and he needs all the friends he can get. _

_ I can’t believe I didn’t think about an inanimate object before! Now all we need to figure out is what that object is; I’m not too worried now that I know that it’s probably magic and not an actual person. I mean, it’s not good, but it’s better than having an evil mastermind somewhere at school with us. _

_ I’ve gotten a few letters from Victoria and she’s having such a good time, I don’t want to bother her with all this talk of possession. I don’t know how bad her life with her mother and stepfather was, but seeing how happy she is now… Well, let’s just say that I’m glad she has the professor in her life. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Astoria _

_ PS: one day we’re all going to put those uppity second-years in their place and show them that just because we’re girls, and just because we’re younger, it doesn’t mean that we’re defenceless. Weasley and Malfoy have it coming for them. _

_ *** _

_ Dear Astoria, _

_ You’ll have to tell me how your day with Nott goes; I know a few things about his family, and I can guess that his father isn’t the kindest man alive. I’m glad that you’ve decided to put things behind you so that you can support your friend; you’re a good person, Ria, I hope you know that. _

_ My dad took me to our house today! We got special permission from the headmaster and he showed me the place he’s been working on. It’s perfect, small but in a cosy way, full of browns and greens and blues, and a purple bedroom just for me! It’s also covered in our magic and it felt like I  _ belonged  _ there, you know? _

_ I didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts, but dad has the Slytherins to think about, and we both know that Malfoy would get up to so much mischief if he didn’t have someone to keep an eye on him. I don’t know how someone like Lord Malfoy – who I met once, to talk about the guardianship thing – can have a son like that blond ponce. (Dad says that he’ll get better with age, but honestly, my faith in the inferior half of humanity is… small) _

_ I overheard Weasley saying that he got a letter from his family, and it sounds like Ginny is okay, although a little bit out of it – nothing new there – so Felicity and you can stop worrying about her. _

_ On a more positive note, I hope you like your gift! It took me a while to find the perfect thing, but I think the wait was worth it. Funny that we both had a similar idea for the first half of our presents. _

_ With love, _

_ Victoria _

_ PS: could you keep Serpens overnight? I think I’ve tired him out with all of these trips to your manor and to Felicity’s flat. _

_ PPS: don’t think I haven’t noticed that Felicity and you have stopped writing to me about our little redhead issue. I could still help, if you need it, but I appreciate your efforts; I’m just sorry I’m not in the mood for research… _

* * *

Astoria fidgeted with her sapphire pendant – Victoria’s gift, the exact shade of her eyes – as her family waited for the Notts to make an appearance.

It was tradition for Theo and his father to come over on the 27 th of December; the adults would go off to talk about serious things, and the children would lock themselves into Daphne’s bedroom and catch each other up on the latest gossip.

However, Astoria knew that this year would be a little bit different. For one, Theo and her needed to talk about the problem that had been putting a strain on their friendship – the stupid confrontation, again. And secondly, for the first time in Astoria’s life, the Notts were  _ late _ .

Instead of stepping out of the floo gracefully at precisely 11 am, as was their habit, the Notts had asked a house elf to tell the Greengrasses that they would be slightly delayed. It worried Astoria, and she could tell that her sister was just as anxious as she was – was Theo okay? Had his father done something? There were too many possibilities, none of them reassuring.

“I’m truly sorry, Marcus.”

Astoria’s eyes snapped up at the sound of Theseus Nott’s voice; she had been too caught up in her concerns to hear the pair of men floo over and greet her family. She had to hold back a blush as the older Nott gazed at her disdainfully before addressing her sister.

“You look well, Astoria,” Theo said, clearly deciding that Daphne would be able to handle Theseus by herself.

“Thanks Theo,” the blond girl answered, hating the awkwardness and wishing that they were alone so that she could make things better. “How have your holidays been so far?”

The question was code, and Theo knew it. The sisters had come up with a list of harmless questions that hid a deeper meaning, a true inquiry about the brown-haired boy’s well-being, and there was an even longer list of answers for Theo to use.

“Decent, I suppose,” he replied, and Astoria winced.

_ Not so good, but I’ll survive. _

“I’ve been able to study a lot; I finished my homework and even read a few books.”

_ He’s been keeping me locked up; I’m going crazy in there _ .

“I’m glad to be here.”

_ I’m glad to be safe _ .

It was in moments like these that Astoria felt completely and utterly useless. One of her oldest friends – even if he was Daphne’s friend more than he was hers – was suffering at the hands of his family, and she could do nothing to protect him. She could only watch as his eyes lost their curious spark and as his complexion paled, as his father gripped his arms too tightly or spat vicious words his way.

“Mum, dad,” Astoria said, smiling at her parents and ignoring how forced it felt – how could she smile when there was a monster in the same room as her? “Can we go give Theo his gifts? I know you wanted to catch up with Theseus.”

She tried not to frown as she spoke; truthfully, she didn’t understand why her parents spent so much time with Theo’s father, but she knew that it wasn’t her place to say anything – and she wasn’t afraid to admit that she was  _ terrified  _ of Theseus.

“Of course,” her mother smiled. “We’ll meet you in the dining hall in an hour.”

Thomas immediately disappeared to do whatever it was that he did during his free time – Astoria had found him in the music room a few times, and she wondered if he had taken up an instrument – and the three other children hurried towards Daphne’s bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut and warded behind them, Theo’s walls crumbled and he fell into Daphne’s arms, seeking comfort. Both girls pretended not to hear the quiet sobs that escaped their friend’s lips; there was no need to point out the obvious.

“How bad was it?” Daphne whispered, her voice wavering. “How hurt are you?”

“It was torture, Daph,” Theo murmured. “My dad was vicious, as always, but I’m used to that. You know what I’m not used to? My  _ uncle _ . That man is  _ evil _ , he tears people down with his words and hurts them in the tiniest ways, so tiny that it feels like it doesn’t matter but… It’s so much worse than the  _ Cruciatus _ . He finds your weakest point and he presses on it, over and over again.”

“I didn’t even remember you had an uncle,” Daphne said, her nose scrunching up in confusion. “Has he ever spent Yule with you before?”

“No. Something happened, something that made him  _ very  _ unhappy. I think he needs my father’s help, as Lord Nott. It’s probably something to do with politics or business or money; I’m not sure.”

“Well, hopefully he deals with his problems fast and leaves you the bloody hell alone,” Astoria said. “Do you need to be healed?”

“I’m fine,” Theo waved her off. “I just need to make it through this week and then I’ll be back at Hogwarts until summer.”

Astoria didn’t believe him, but she knew better than to push, and so did Daphne. Instead, they told the boy about their holidays and exchanged gifts and pointedly  _ didn’t _ mention Theo’s family. Instead, they found themselves discussing the strange events that had happened at school during Astoria’s first term.

“I don’t think it’s a student,” she said.

“Really?” Daphne asked skeptically. “Not even a certain acquaintance of yours?”

“I have that under control, Daphne,” Astoria snapped. “We think that someone gave a tainted object to my  _ acquaintance _ , something that is able to take over her mind and make her do things she doesn’t want to do.”

“A tainted object?” Theo interrupted, eyes wide. “Astoria, what  _ exactly  _ do you mean?”

“I mean that I think someone wants to get rid of the muggleborn students, or wants to spread fear, or wants to discredit Dumbledore, or  _ something _ , and implanted an object that could possess someone to do the dirty work for them.”

“Astoria…” Theo whispered, and the youngest girl was struck by how  _ scared  _ he looked. “This summer, I… I overheard my father speaking to Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy gave something to my father then, something to keep safe. I only glanced at it briefly, but it felt  _ so dark _ . And when I went shopping for my supplies, my father  _ insisted  _ on coming with me, so he definitely got close to some of our classmates.”

“You think that your  _ father  _ did this?” Astoria hissed – how dare the man try to harm her friends? Wasn’t it bad enough that he took out his anger and bitterness on his son?

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The most terrifying thing was that if Theseus was involved, and if Malfoy had been the one to handle the object first, then Victoria’s theory gained a lot of weight. Astoria didn’t know how, but the Dark Lord had found a way to haunt the world even in death, and she had never been more afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and as always, thank you to my sister and beta @fall27 for helping me edit the chapter. My daily writing plan is stronger than ever; I've got two and a half chapters ready instead of a single one, so I'm not worried about the update schedule anymore. 
> 
> I've been putting off quite a lot of my uni work, so I might have to slow down on the amount I write, but hopefully I have enough of a backlog to make up for it. Besides, I always put writing before school (I'd rather do something I love than something I'm being forced to give in) so I'm sure it'll be okay. 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and the bookmarks, don't hesitate to leave a comment, they're always strongly appreciated!
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	11. Yule Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> Hope everyone around the world is doing well right now! I present to you the second part of the Yule chapter, which is still one of my favourite chapters so far! The format is the same as the last one, with a back and forth between narration and letters. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_ Dear Felicity, _

_ I know I haven’t written to you – or Victoria – in a few days, but things have been a little bit hectic over here… Theo’s not doing great, but we managed to convince his father to let him stay with us for a few days, so we’re trying our best to cheer him up and let him heal. _

_ I was determined not to bring the good Yule mood down, but I have some really bad news, and I don’t think it would be fair to keep it a secret from you – although, maybe don’t tell Victoria just yet? She’ll be pissed when she finds out, but we both know that she’ll be more grateful than anything. _

_ You probably know this, but a fair share of the people in my life are quite dark, and therefore a lot of them were… on the wrong side of the war. I don’t know all of their beliefs, and I don’t even know if all of them were active supporters of  _ you know who _ , but they’re far from pure; they’ve all been involved in shady businesses and make more trips to Knockturn Alley than most reasonable wizards. _

_ Point is, they can be dangerous, and in Theo’s family’s case? They’re all  _ extremely  _ dangerous. I tell you this not so that you can use it against him, but so that you take this information very seriously. _

_ The short version is that Malfoy’s dad came to Theo’s house during the summer holidays to get rid of something; a very,  _ very  _ dark something. Theo thinks that his dad took that object and passed it on to an unsuspecting Hogwarts student. I don’t think I need to spell things out for you, but needless to say, this isn’t looking good. _

_ Ginny’s in serious danger, and we need to figure out what this object is  _ soon _ , before she gets hurt and we lose one of our best friends. _

_ I’m sorry to send such bad news, but the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can go back to being four normal girls with completely ordinary lives. Don’t be too hard on yourself if you don’t find answers immediately though, we’re doing our best. _

_ With care, _

_ Astoria _

_ PS: this question is starting to get repetitive, but any news from Ginny? I keep hoping that I’ll see that old owl of hers fly through my window, but it’s getting more and more unlikely as the end of the holidays approach… _

***

_ Dear Astoria, _

_ Don’t worry about the wait, I’m just glad to hear that you and Theodore sorted things out and that you’re spending time together. His father sound like an absolute nightmare; I wonder why people are so cruel, you know. I grew up only knowing good people, who cared about their students and their families, and now that I’m at Hogwarts, it feels like there’s evil everywhere. _

_ Wow, sorry for going all pessimistic on you, I guess I’m just frustrated that life at the castle isn’t as glorious or peaceful as I imagined it to be. _

_ The news you reported are… alarming. I don’t like thinking about who  _ exactly  _ is in Ginny’s head, and I like the idea of the Dark Lord possessing her even less. I won’t deny it though, I’m not a fool. I just… Who do we trust in the world, except for ourselves? Do we trust the adults who ignore us, the ones who are secretly twisted masterminds, the ones who treat us like ignorant children? _

_ The answer to our problems, or at least to  _ what  _ our cursed object is, is at the tip of my tongue – or my mind, I suppose. It’s been tickling at the edges of my thoughts all week, and I’m sure that I even dreamed about it, but I can never remember the details once I wake up. It’s bothering me, but I’m trying to stay positive and tell myself that it’ll come to me soon. _

_ Were we ever ordinary girls? I hope not; we’re much too smart and powerful to qualify as normal. However, I agree that I’m looking forward to a quieter term at school, if possible. I won’t tell Victoria just yet, but we shouldn’t keep her in the dark too much or she’ll start to think that we don’t trust her. _

_ I miss you, _

_ Love, _

_ Felicity _

_ PS: nothing here either. I just wish she’d send a note, a sentence, anything. _

***

_ Dear Felicity, _

_ I know that you and Astoria want me to enjoy my holidays, but this is getting ridiculous. You both send me letters that reek of anxiety, but you only write about the most superficial things, and it’s getting frustrating. _

_ I’m happy to hear that your mum and dad took you to Italy for a few days, and it’s nice to hear about your gifts, but I’m your friend, aren’t I? I might not be able to help with our quest that much, but I have a brain, and I have at least an ounce of logic in there, so please don’t hold back for my sake. _

_ I love my dad, and getting to know him has been amazing, but you’re my friends, and I can’t be left out of everything because of him. I’m good, Felicity, great even; I can take a little bit of the bad off of your shoulders. You don’t need to suffer through everything alone; Astoria is already dealing with so much, she doesn’t need to carry the heaviest burden for all of us. _

_ I care about you, okay? And if you think I’ll be satisfied to watch you suffer as I live my life, then you’re wrong. I might not be as smart as Astoria and you, but I’m not useless; I have so much magical theory flying in my head at all times, believe me when I tell you that I can help. _

_ Besides, I’m going crazy over here; I finished all of my homework and I can’t just read all day. I’m not especially close to anyone who stayed, so outside of a few snowball fights, I’ve been feeling a little bit lonely, and your evasiveness hasn’t been helping. _

_ With love, _

_ Victoria _

_ PS: Ginny’s older brother sent me a letter – the prefect, the one who actually pays a little bit of attention – telling me that she’s doing okay but that she hasn’t really looked at her mail. _

* * *

“Is that a letter from one of your friends again?” Felicity’s father asked her as she set down the latest correspondence from Victoria and focused on her bowl of cereal instead. “You seem very close to them.”

“Yeah, they’re great,” Felicity answered, although she couldn’t help but frown at her dark-haired friend’s words.

Victoria wasn’t wrong when she said that they should be keeping her updated on the Ginny situation; it wasn’t fair to keep her out of something that concerned her just as much as it concerned them. In fact, if the rumours Victoria had told them about were true, she was even more concerned; she was the one being accused of opening the Chamber, after all. If they found their cursed object and stopped the attacks, she wouldn’t have to worry about such stupid accusations.

“Darling, are you quite all right?” her mother cut through her thoughts, her dark eyes worried. “Is your friend okay?”

“Victoria’s fine,” Felicity assured her. “She’s spending the holidays at Hogwarts with her father; she couldn’t be in better hands. And I’m here, so of course I’m okay!”

She smiled to reassure them, but her father rolled his eyes and folded his arms against his chest. The two of them had always been close, and Felicity found it easier to go to her father, who understood magic, than her mother who tried her best but didn’t know what it felt like to wield power like they did.

“Fine,” the brunette huffed. “The three of us had been working on something at the end of the term, doing research and stuff like that, but Astoria and I have sort of… been keeping her out of the loop lately, which she doesn’t really appreciate.”

“Understandable,” her mother said, looking at Felicity as though that much should have been obvious – to be fair, it should have been.

“We just didn’t want to ruin her holidays! She  _ just  _ met her father and we thought that she wouldn’t want her time with him to be marred by some less pleasant subjects. And, well… I think maybe we underestimated her.”

Her parents only stared, clearly waiting for her to continue. That had always been their way of doing things; they would listen to the full story before giving her advice or asking extra questions. It was supposed to improve her debate and negotiation skills, but sometimes it was more frustrating than anything.

“You know I try my best to be as objective as possible, but sometimes I forget that school isn’t everything. Victoria is a genius at Potions, but her other grades – although good – aren’t anything like mine or Astoria’s. And yes, I know that sounds arrogant, but it’s not a complete lie. Anyways, I think because Astoria and I get almost exclusively Outstandings, I ended up looking down on Vic’s Exceeds Expectations and thinking that she… wouldn’t be able to bring anything new to the table when it comes to our… research.”

“And what do you think, now that you’ve actually taken the time to think about it?” her father asked, always hitting her with the questions that made her wince and feel ashamed of herself.

“That Astoria and I were idiots,” she admitted. “Victoria has more knowledge about magical theory than either of us combined. And three minds are always better than two. I think we used her happiness as an excuse to keep her away, even though in reality we treated her like she was worth less. It’s ridiculous, because she’s the most powerful one of us four by far.”

“Well,” her father said after a minute of silence. “I think that your self-awareness is improving. It’s okay to mess up sometimes, darling, as long as you realise that you aren’t perfect and that you do your best to fix what you did wrong. Is Victoria angry at you?”

“I think she’s mostly… disappointed,” Felicity grimaced. “A little sad, maybe. That’s how I’d feel if I was in her place. She’s trusted us with her secrets, but we haven’t done the same thing, and it’s even worse since this ‘secret’ belongs to her as well.”

“I’m sure that if you apologise, she will forgive you easily,” her mother said, smiling softly. “Your Victoria sounds like a kind girl, you should trust her, Felicity. Don’t be afraid to share some of that responsibility that you’re so keen to take on by yourself.”

Her parents were right, as always, and the brunette could only mumble her thanks, staring at the leftover milk in her bowl and swirling it around as she tried to get rid of the guilt clinging onto her mind.

Thankfully, her dad was an amazing human being who always knew how to pull her out of her darker moods.

“So, how do you know that Victoria is the most powerful of the four of you? I thought that Ginevra was a seventh child, therefore she’s bound to have quite a lot of magic. And you do too, don’t forget that.”

Felicity’s eyes lit up as she was given the opportunity to talk about the theories she adored.

“We all have above-average magic, from what I can tell,” she shrugged. “It’s not surprising. Ginny is indeed the seventh child; Astoria was born on a Sunday, which also happened to be the seventh full moon of the year; and you know that I was born at 7:07 during the month of July. With so many Sevens, we were bound to have quite a lot of magic. But Victoria was born on the 7 th of September, and her father is  _ extremely  _ powerful.”

Her mother had excused herself, muttering about book-obsessed witches and wizards who always had an explanation to everything. Felicity snorted and exchanged an amused look with her father.

“So you think that her blood also added to her strength?” the man inquired, and Felicity sobered up. Blood discourse was always delicate to approach.

“I think,” she replied slowly. “That there is undeniable proof that half-bloods in this last century have been particularly strong compared to purebloods and muggleborns. We both know that there have been a lot of papers discreetly and anonymously published about the topic. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that my magic is slightly more potent than Astoria’s or Ginny’s thanks to mum.”

She wasn’t trying to be rude, and she would never admit such things to her friends directly, but it was a very valid hypothesis.

“I wouldn’t be surprised either,” her father nodded. “But have you ever felt Victoria’s magic?”

She shivered at the thought; she had never felt her friends’ pure magic, of course, but they all practised spells together, so she had gotten a vague idea of their power levels – Felicity had been born with the rare ability to sense magic almost as clearly as she could smell or hear or taste. It was a family trait that appeared from time to time, and luckily, both her father and her had been blessed.

“Never fully, but what I did sense was more than enough. It’s strong, and it’s so warm, dad. I wanted nothing more than to curl up next to her and absorb the comfort that radiated off of her, and that was only when we were working on lower spells. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when we move on to more complicated magic.”

“Well then,” her father smiled. “If her magic is as beautiful as you describe it to be, then I can’t wait to meet her. You should also know that liking her magic so much is just another indication that you should trust her more.”

He stood up and kissed her forehead, gazing at her fondly before speaking quietly.

“And Felicity? Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t specify what your research was about. I’ve seen you snooping around, and although I won’t stop you, please be careful. And if what you’re dealing with is dangerous,  _ please _ tell an adult, even if it isn’t me.”

The brunette’s stomach dropped. Her father might be kind enough to let her do some research, but she knew that he would lose his mind if he found out about Ginny. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t do it.

The last of her milk tasted like ash as she forced it down her throat and tried to ignore the warning bells going off in her head.

* * *

_ Dear Ginny, _

_ The holidays will be over in four days, and we still haven’t heard from you. I know that we didn’t talk that much one on one, but I just want to know if you’re doing okay. We care about you a lot, Red, and we just want to help, somehow. _

_ I hope that you’ve been enjoying your time with your family. Did all of your brothers come home? I know that Ronald is still at school, since he got in that little tiff with Victoria, but what about the others? The two eldest are already working, are they not? I hope they managed to make it home to see you and your parents. _

_ I’m not sure why I’m still writing to you; I’m pretty sure that all of my letters sound the same. But, oh well… Better too many than none at all. _

_ My parents decided to take my siblings and I to the United States for two days as a present, and I have to admit that I appreciated it. Daphne and Thomas adore the States, and they find the Wizarding communities so interesting. I think I prefer England, but diversity is always a good thing. _

_ Nothing much else to say, as I’ve told you everything else in my older letters. Percy says that you haven’t been reading them, though, so maybe we’ll just have to tell you about our holidays once we go back to school. _

_ I miss you, Ginny, _

_ Astoria _

***

_ Dear Ginny, _

_ Three days until Hogwarts starts back up. I can’t say that I’m really looking forward to it; I’ve been stuck in the castle for the past two weeks anyway. I am, however, looking forward to seeing you and the others again. I don’t know if the feeling is reciprocated, but it’s true either way. _

_ Maybe you’ve just been busy with your family; I’ve been finding it hard to deal with my father, and he’s alone! I can’t imagine having eight other people in the house all the time. You must be glad to be back home, though. I’m sure it was a nice breath of fresh air. _

_ Do you even like Hogwarts? I wonder sometimes, because it’s so hard to know what you’re thinking about or how you’re feeling. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing! I just hope that going to school isn’t complete torture for you. _

_ Have I already talked about this in one of my letters? I can’t remember. Just wanted to say that I missed you, that I would stop hounding you with letters – we’ll be seeing each other soon anyways – and that you’d better be ready for an epic sleepover in the den as soon as we’re all back! _

_ With love, _

_ Victoria _

_ PS: not to be a snitch, but I’ve been spending a lot of time in proximity to your brother and his friends, and I think that they somehow brewed Polyjuice. They should be a bit more careful about the conversations they have in public, but don’t worry, I won’t tell my dad. Still, maybe speak to Ronald about it? You have a way of taking your brothers down a few pegs, it’s amazing. _

***

_ Dear Ginny, _

_ I miss you. I’ve told my dad all about you and the girls, and he can’t wait to meet you. I think you’d like him; he’s smart and kind, but he also has a sharp tongue and is – secretly – a huge prankster. You and the twins remind me of him, although he’s a lot more even-tempered than you Weasleys. _

_ I hope you’ll tell us more about your family when we come back to Hogwarts; I’ve been wondering about your older brothers. I mean, you told us their names and the basics, but which ones do you think are more like us? Please don’t compare any of us to Ronald though, I don’t think we could take it. Am I a bit like Percy? I quite like him, really, even though I know he gets on your nerves sometimes (I get on your nerves too, don’t I?) _

_ On my side of things, everything’s been pretty quiet. Yule is about to end, and my father and I have exchanged our last gifts. Yours is actually in the parcel that should have arrived with this letter – I know you don’t follow our traditions, but a gift never hurts, right? _

_ We went to ice skating rink today, and I guess that was nice. Have you ever skated before? We should all stay at Hogwarts one year and glide on the lake. _

_ I’m running out of things to talk to you about, but I refuse to stop writing altogether; it would feel like I’m giving up on you, and I never want you to feel like we’re just letting things go. We don’t care that you’re not answering – well, we do, a little bit, but we understand – as long as you know that we’re still friends. _

_ Anyway, we have a lot to talk about when the holidays are over. The girls and I have been trying to find out why you’ve been so tired and ill since the year started, and we think that we’ve found a solution to your problems. Hopefully, you’ll be right as rain in a month or so! _

_ Love, _

_ Felicity _

* * *

Winter had always been Ginny’s favourite season. She loved the snow and the cooler shades of sky, loved the way that no matter how cold it was outside, the Burrow was always warm and full of hugs, pies, hot chocolate, and  _ family _ .

Maybe  _ that  _ was why it was her favourite season; although her eldest brothers were gone all year long, they never failed to come back for Christmas. Charlie would greet her with fantastic stories and as many presents as he could fit in his bags. Bill, on the other hand, would greet her with a fond smile and a promise to speak later. Then, they would snuggle together on his bed and talk about their lives.

It wasn’t a secret that Bill was her favourite brother; after all, he had been the one to teach her how to walk and read and hex and apologise and  _ everything _ . He had held her close when she had nightmares and kept everyone away when she needed space in the midst of their too-cramped house.

Bill could read her like an open book, and Christmas had been her favourite time of the year because she got him back – even if only for a few days. This year, though, the last thing she needed was an overly perceptive brother. He had taken one look at her and frowned deeply, so Ginny had done everything that she could to avoid him.

He had noticed, of course, but he had always respected her, and this time wasn’t an exception. He was waiting for her to crack, to come crawling into his bed begging for love and attention and reassurance.

And truthfully, there was nothing Ginny wanted more than her brother’s kind words, but the voice had managed to convince her to stay away. The voice, which had slowly started to disappear as the holidays advanced.

Ginny didn’t understand why or how it happened, but she didn’t care. Without the voice inside her head, she wouldn’t feel guilty if she went to talk to her brother, right?

Right. She could do it.

She stepped away from her window and made her way to Bill’s bedroom – two flights of stairs above her own, the path so familiar that she could walk it even with her eyes closed.

“Come in!”

The voice wasn’t too loud; it was already late, and Ginny knew that Bill had been waiting for her. He was leaving the next day, and she was going back to Hogwarts the day after that, so this was their last chance to spend time together until the summer holidays.

She walked in, feeling unsure for the first time ever. She couldn’t even look at him, afraid of what she would see in his eyes. Was he mad at her for taking so long? What if he didn’t understand this time? What if he had given up on her like everyone else had?

(She didn’t think about the letters scattered across her bed, finally opened after remaining sealed for two weeks. She didn’t think about the guilt and the relief and the strong wave of affection that had overwhelmed her a few hours earlier.)

“Ginny,” Bill murmured. She finally looked up, and his open arms broke the last of her defences. She ran to him and buried herself in his chest, relishing his warmth and his familiar scent. She was  _ home _ .

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice uneven.

“What are you sorry about, little star?”

The childhood nickname only made her feel worse; how could she have ever doubted Bill? The boy who had witnessed her first bout of accidental magic and had kept it between the two of them, whispering about how beautiful the stars she had conjured were and telling her stories about the night sky. The boy who had found a spell to reproduce the events and charmed the balls of light onto his ceiling.

They were still there and gazing at them filled her with the same warmth that it always had. Here, she was loved. Here, she was heard. Bill understood her in a way that no one else did, except maybe her friends – how lucky she was, and how ungrateful she had been for the gifts she had been graced with.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you before. For ignoring you and being distant and acting like a spoiled child.” 

“A spoiled child?” Bill laughed. “You’ve barely been eating, you gave us all thoughtful gifts, you’ve been quiet and withdrawn, and you call yourself spoiled? Moody, maybe, but definitely not spoiled. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Is it Hogwarts?”

“No! No, it’s not Hogwarts. Hogwarts has been great. I met these three girls, and even though I wasn’t speaking to anyone, they accepted me and got to know me, and they’ve been writing to me every two days, giving me presents, telling me that they love me and care about me and… They’re really great. And they came with Hogwarts, so it hasn’t been all bad.”

“But?”

She breathed in deeply. She couldn’t tell him about the voice; that would just make her seem crazy.

“I’ve been feeling ill. I’m always tired and I pull away from everyone, even though I want to be friends with them. It’s been hard, even with the girls’ help, but Felicity says that they’ve found a solution, and I trust her. If she says they know what’s wrong, then they do. I didn’t want to worry you, which is why I stayed away. I’ve actually been feeling better since I came home; maybe I was just homesick.”

Bill didn’t say anything for a while, simply running his big hands down her back soothingly. There was a sad smile on his face though, and Ginny thought that she might understand; she had found other people to go to now, other people she liked and trusted. Maybe that was why she had stayed away; because she didn’t want him to think that she didn’t care just because she had found a good group of friends.

It was better for him to think that she was sick than forgetting about him.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he finally said. “That they’ve figured out a way to help you, I mean. But if it doesn’t work, please tell me, okay? Or tell  _ someone _ .”

She nodded, hoping that if the voice came back, it would let her ask for help. She didn’t need her own mind working against herself.

“Now, why don’t you talk to me about your friends? You’ve been quiet, and Percy’s been too busy to mention your little posse,” he smiled, and Ginny snickered at his wording.

“First, there’s Felicity. She’s the one who approached me first, sitting next to me in class and dragging me to sit with the other first-years for meals. The teachers seem to forget that she exists, but she’s absolutely brilliant. She reads a lot but is secretly  _ so  _ gossipy and curious about  _ everything _ . Then we started hanging out with Astoria and Victoria; the house elves call them the Rias, which they find hilarious. Astoria’s from a dark family, but she’s kind and patient and shy, and she spends more time in the library than even Felicity. She’s also super smart. Then there’s Victoria, Professor Snape’s daughter.”

“Professor Snape has a  _ daughter _ ?! Why did no one tell me about this?!”

Ginny couldn’t help but giggle at her brother’s reaction.

“He does. She’s a Hufflepuff, which confused a lot of people, but makes so much sense once you get to know her. She works really hard to get what she wants, and although she’s not the best student in our year, she’s ahead of us by at least two years when it comes to potions, even though she met her father at the same time as all of us. She’s also the one who started the movement to unite all of the first-years, no matter the house.”

“The movement to  _ what _ ?! Ginny, for Merlin’s sake, what is going on at Hogwarts this year?”

* * *

_ Dear Astoria, Felicity, and Victoria _

_ I’m so sorry that I haven’t answered your letters before now, especially since school starts again in less than two days. _

_ I’ve been thinking a lot, and I’m actually doing a lot better. Maybe I was just homesick since being at the Burrow has really helped. I avoided everyone for most of my time here, so it wasn’t just you guys. I think I saw your owls deliver some letters to Percy though, so it looks like you found a way to look over me even when I was making it difficult for you guys. _

_ I miss all of you so much, and I promise that I’ll tell you all about my brothers and my house and my holidays as soon as we have our epic sleepover – you promised, Victoria, no taking it back now! _

_ I’d write more, but we’ll be seeing each other soon, and I want you to get this message as soon as possible. Hermes will be visiting all of you one by one, so feel free to take the attached gift that belongs to you when he stops, and let him rest a little bit before you send him to the next person (Victoria, you can just take him to the owlery, Percy said that he doesn’t mind). Sorry that they’re late, but don’t think that I forgot about you! _

_ With love and tons of apologies, _

_ Ginny _

_ PS: Victoria, have you seen my diary? I think I left it behind, because I can’t find it anywhere. It’s black, old, and has someone else’s name on it; you don’t have to send an answer, but maybe look in my dorm and keep your eyes open for it? _

* * *

The  _ diary _ .

The bloody diary.

Why hadn’t Felicity thought about it before? The cursed thing was always close to Ginny, and if it had truly belonged to someone else, there was a high chance that they would find their culprit’s name embossed on the book.

Suddenly, the redhead’s obsession with the diary made a lot more sense. She felt so  _ stupid _ , why hadn’t she remembered Ginny’s strange behaviour when she wrote?

At least she had  _ finally _ made the connection, and now they knew what to get rid of in order to free Ginny. The girl was already feeling better after spending a prolonged period of time away from the  _ thing _ , so they just had to make it disappear.

Hermes cocked his head to the side, and Felicity hurried to find a piece of paper and add a note for the girls.

Victoria  _ had  _ to find the diary. It was the only way to keep Ginny safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and as always, to my beta and sister @Fall27 for helping me edit this chapter! The Yule chapter is over, I hope you enjoyed the different views of the winter holidays by our four favourite girls. Next chapter is another one that I love so look forward to that! 
> 
> As you might have noticed, I added an official chapter count to this story; I'm almost done writing the whole fic (I'm on the before-last chapter) but I'll still be posting once a week for now. My daily writing is going great, I've been super inspired, so thank you to everyone who's been reading this! I'll probably have even more time now that my uni has closed, so we'll see how that goes. 
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave a kudo or a comment, they always make my day. 
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	12. The Diary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> I hope that everyone is doing well and is staying safe! I've been trying to deal with being back at my parents' house full time while also keeping up my uni work... It's been a bit tough, but I've found more time to write, so at least there's that. 
> 
> This chapter is where the main Chamber of Secrets' plot starts to have an impact on the girls; let me remind you that canon will be completely disregarded here! Harry isn't a main protagonist in this fic, and he won't become one any time soon (or ever), so obviously, I changed the events in order to let my girls have their own adventures!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Victoria shivered as the cold winter air settled around her and seeped through her robes. She welcomed it; at least it distracted her from the wrongness of the diary in her hands.

Felicity and Astoria had told her that they would join her at their usual spot near the lake as soon as they had distracted Ginny, but it had been twenty minutes already and the dark-haired Hufflepuff was itching to throw the thing into the water and be done with it.

The sparks travelling through her fingers weren’t kind, they wanted to curse, to burn, to  _ destroy _ . It reminded her of the manor, of the deepest corners of the library, of spells sent her way, of malevolent eyes tearing her apart. It was  _ wrong  _ and her magic wanted to get rid of it,  _ she  _ wanted to get rid of it.

She hoped that whatever solution the girls had come up with, it was a damned good one. The diary should be turned to dust, ground and torn and shredded until it ceased to exist.

“That is  _ foul _ ,” Astoria’s voice cut through the silence. Victoria hadn’t even heard her friends arrive; she had been too focused on the object that had caused this secret meeting. “I’ve never felt anything this dark before. Are you okay?”

Victoria shrugged; she had been in a foul mood all day long, but she didn’t know if it was because of the diary itself or because she knew what the diary had done to one of her best friends.

“Let’s just deal with it as quickly as possible,” she grumbled, glaring at the object and damning whoever had thought that creating such a foul thing was a good idea. “I don’t want this anywhere near me  _ ever again _ . I can’t even stand to look at it for too long, and my magic  _ hates it _ .”

“We’re not sure if anything will work on it,” Felicity admitted, but gestured for Victoria to put it down so that they could cast spells at it safely – or as safely as this situation would allow them to be. They should have told a professor, but her friends refused to ask for help, and she was reluctant to go against their wishes.

They started slowly, trying fire spells, blasting spells, cutting spells, and working their way up to questionably-legal curses that were meant for purging and cleansing – courtesy of Astoria’s extensive library back at her family’s manor.

Half an hour later, they hadn’t even made a  _ dent  _ in the thing, and Victoria’s magic was starting to grow restless. Next to her, Astoria was gritting her teeth, and Felicity had a heavy frown on her face. Clearly, neither of them appreciated the experience either. It felt a little like her blood was attempting to pull her away from the diary, as if it knew exactly how dangerous the object could be.

“This is useless,” Astoria ground out. “I say we just toss it into the lake.”

Victoria’s mind screeched to a halt and she whipped around to stare at her friend incredulously.

“Are you absolutely  _ insane _ ?!” she hissed. “We have a possibly  _ lethal _ object in front of us, and you want to throw it into the lake? Do you know how many people hang out around here? The book will float back to a shore and sink its claws into another unsuspecting student, and we won’t have achieved  _ anything _ .”

Neither one of her friends answered and her features turned to stone as she realised that she might end up being outvoted by two of the people she trusted the most at Hogwarts.

“Do not tell me that you agree with Astoria, Felicity,” she murmured dangerously. “How can you not see how  _ wrong  _ that would be?”

“Ginny would be safe,” the brunette answered, her hands inching towards the diary. Victoria snatched it up before she could do anything. “It’s not up to us to fix the petrification problem! I just want my friend to be safe, and as long as I manage to do that, why does it matter if someone else finds it?”

“Why does it  _ matter _ ?” Victoria growled. “Ginny has been losing her mind these last few months. She’s been slowly killing herself because of this stupid book, hurting others without even realising it, forgetting entire portions of her life, and you ask me why it matters? Would you not feel an ounce of guilt if another student had to go through that because we couldn’t be arsed to fully destroy the diary?”

Her friends looked at each other, communicating silently, and for an instant, Victoria  _ hated  _ them. She knew that she wasn’t the best student out of the three of them, knew that even though she had been subject to the most curses, she was relatively innocent and withdrawn, knew that she didn’t always come to the same conclusions as them quite as fast, but she wasn’t an  _ idiot _ .

The two girls had been working on the possession issue without her, so now they thought that they could use their ‘superior knowledge’ against her; that they were  _ right _ because she didn’t understand everything.

“What if another one of our friends ends up with the diary? What will you do then?” she accused them quietly. Deep down, she already knew that she would not win.

“We’ll get rid of it again, as many times as it takes,” Felicity said firmly, and though it sounded like she believed it, Victoria  _ couldn’t _ .

“All we’d have to do is tell my father,” she pleaded. “We show him the diary, and he takes care of it himself. He has ten times more knowledge than all of us combined, and he has enough dark books out and about for me to know that he should be able to do this. And if not, he can take it to Dumbledore or the Ministry, or  _ someone _ , and the students will be safe.”

“Really?” Astoria sneered. “And when they find out that Ginny was the one who carried it into Hogwarts, what do you think they’ll do? Spare her? Do you care so little about her?”

“That’s not what I said, and you  _ know it _ !” Victoria retorted hotly. She rarely let her temper flare, but she knew that it was a force to reckon with when it  _ did  _ come out. “We don’t even have to tell them that Ginny was involved, and my dad is discreet enough to keep  _ us  _ out of it too if he needs to hand the diary off to someone else. You’re willing to throw a  _ cursed, dark, potentially lethal _ object into a lake that’s constantly surrounded by students! If anyone finds out about that, you’ll be  _ expelled, _ and Ginny will be devastated!”

“At least she’ll be alive and unharmed!” Felicity shot back. “Do you even care about what happens to her? What if she spots the diary before we can give it to your father? What if having the diary in the castle is enough for the possession to continue? What then?!”

“You’re being deliberately  _ thick _ , Felicity!” Victoria almost screamed, wiping tears off her face – and when had those made their way there? “We all know that going to my father is the smartest idea. I don’t know if you have something against him, or if you’re just unwilling to admit that we need help, but your plan is ridiculous.”

“I’m not the thick one here,” her brunette friend snarled. “You’re outvoted, Victoria, give it up.”

She didn’t want to. She wanted to cry and yell and hex her friends all the way back to the castle. She wanted to see the diary in ashes on the floor, or safely in her father’s care – he was  _ brilliant _ , for Merlin’s sake, and a lot more skilled than a bunch of first-years.

But Astoria and Felicity were glaring at her, clearly under the impression that their solution was the best one – the only one. And no matter how pissed she was at them; she didn’t want to lose them. Hopefully they would come around, and they’d fish the diary out of the lake before anyone else could.

She sighed and turned away from the duo, tossing the diary as far as she could into the lake before she could do something stupid like run to her father with the book and ruin two of her best friendships.

“Don’t you dare tell your father about this,” Felicity added, and Victoria’s heart shattered.

She had listened to her friends, even though she didn’t agree with them, but instead of a thank you, all she got was a warning.

“This is the best thing to do,” Astoria said softly, and the dark-haired girl could see a hint of regret and guilt in the other’s eyes. “This way, Ginny is safe and free to be herself.”

_ But at what cost? _

She didn’t say anything, leaving her friends behind and hurrying towards the castle, eager to get away from them and that magic and the uncomfortable fire burning in her heart – guilt, disappointment, anger, resentment, guilt, shame, guilt, guilt.

The term had started again, but her feet took her towards the Slytherin dungeons, and before she knew it, she was in front of her father’s quarters. She shouldn’t have been surprised; after two weeks spent in his presence, it was hard to believe that she couldn’t just live there permanently. He had said that it would be blatant favouritism, but surely… Surely one night more couldn’t hurt?

She pressed a hand onto the stone wall and watched it dissolve in front of her eyes, the wards welcoming her and letting her see the door that was usually so cleverly hidden.

“Dad?” she called out uncertainly.

“Victoria?” the man answered immediately, stepping out of the kitchen with a cup of tea in his hands and a worried look on his face. “What are you doing here so late? Are you okay?”

She hadn’t even registered the darkness outside – there was another darkness, lost in the depths of the lake for now, that had taken over her thoughts – so it hadn’t occurred to her that she might have been breaking curfew. It didn’t matter. Her father wouldn’t punish her, she knew, not for something like this.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered, taking a few steps forward and standing in front of her.

For a second, she thought about telling him everything; the diary, Ginny, the possession, her argument with her friends, her worry over what might happen, her regrets, her fears… She wanted to talk to him about the despair that had wrapped around her heart when she had first touched the diary; how it had been almost as bad as Darius’ words and threats and curses.

But she couldn’t betray her friends.

So she did the only thing that made sense, bursting into tears and holding onto her father for dear life. She gripped his robes and buried her face into his chest. She was trembling and sobbing, and her teeth were chattering, and she couldn’t  _ say anything _ .

Thankfully, her father didn’t ask any questions, only wrapped his arms around her gently and soothed her with reassuring words ( _ it’s okay, you’re safe, I’ve got you _ ) until she fell asleep, letting the feelings of love and affection take over and lead her into dreams rather than nightmares.

(She still screamed herself awake a few hours later, the guilt crushing her lungs until she could barely breathe.)

* * *

Ginny had missed something important.

It had been over a week since the start of term, and a strange rift had appeared between Victoria and their two other friends. The dark-haired girl was still spending time with them, but her eyes were clouded, and she barely ever addressed Felicity or Astoria directly.

The two girls acted like nothing was wrong, and it irked Ginny to no end. What had they done that had put such sadness in Victoria’s eyes? And why weren’t they trying to fix it?

Ginny was feeling much better than she had at the beginning of the year, but it didn’t mean that she had forgotten everything that her friends had done to cheer her up and make sure that she was okay. Now that Victoria was hurt, however, it seemed like Felicity and Astoria couldn’t care less.

Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. She had noticed that, occasionally, the two girls would look at Victoria with shame and regret written plainly over their faces, but they still didn’t  _ do  _ anything.

Ginny’s observations were detailed enough that she thought she had a basic idea about the problem; the three girls had discussed something, possibly something that had to do with her – they had managed to find a solution to her problems, after all – but had ultimately disagreed. Astoria and Felicity had been on the same side, and Victoria had been alone. Given the distance between the three of them, it was reasonable to assume that painful words had been exchanged, and now the duo regretted what they had done – or at least regretted the consequences of their actions.

She hadn’t intervened at first, thinking that they would come to her and tell her what was wrong, or ask for her help, or  _ something _ . But they didn’t. They talked about their classes and about their yearmates’ prank war with the twins, about their homework and their holidays, and about Ginny’s improved state, but never about the obvious elephant in the room.

So on the second Friday after their return to school, Ginny glared at her friends and announced that they would be having a sleepover in the Hufflepuff dorms – Victoria had promised her such a thing, and she  _ dared  _ any of them to refuse. Luckily, they didn’t, and Ginny sent Felicity and Victoria off to the den before going to collect some goods from the kitchen with Astoria.

The house elves were appalled to hear that one of their favourite students was feeling down and rushed to put together a basket worthy of a Hogwarts feast. Ginny didn’t fail to notice the way Astoria flinched when the house elves referred to Victoria as “Miss Ria” – the blond girl clearly missed her friend, and Ginny’s resolve to fix things tripled.

She dragged the Slytherin to the badgers’ common room, which was only a few corridors away from the kitchens, and they let themselves in, exchanging a quick grin when the upper years only rolled their eyes at their appearance – and at their yellow-piped robes.

It had become a fairly usual sight to see a gaggle of first-years from every house in the common rooms; Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw being the most popular meeting spots based on their methods of entry – it was harder to keep up with the Gryffindor and Slytherin passwords, although Ginny was always aware of both. 

Technically, students had to sleep in their own dorms, but the first-years had also found a way around that rule, and none of the professors had caught on to their deception quite yet. Felicity never stayed in the same house more than three days in a row, and some of the Slytherins had a semi-permanent bed in Gryffindor tower for those days when their own common rooms made them feel claustrophobic. Victoria had fallen asleep on the Slytherin couch more times than anyone could count – it made her feel closer to her dad – and one of the Ravenclaws hated riddles so preferred to stay with the Hufflepuffs.

It was messy, but they loved it, and it meant that sleepovers were easily organised.

“We have the food!” Ginny exclaimed as she walked into the girls’ dormitory. “Bow to me, peasants, and beg for your rations!”

Immediately, Poppy and Tanya – a bubbly brunette – got on their knees and pleaded for her to give them even just a crumb. She giggled and threw a few sweets their way, bouncing off to join her friends once they were satisfied.

Victoria was sitting on her bed, but the other two were standing, looking unsure and slightly uncomfortable. Ginny narrowed her eyes and pushed them onto the soft mattress, ignoring their protests and plopping herself down directly next to Victoria.

Felicity and Astoria had quieted, and a now-familiar silence had settled over the group.

“Well,” the redhead started, her smile sharp. “Isn’t this nice?”

None of her friends answered, and Ginny found herself wanting to curse all of them, if only to get a reaction out of them.

“I don’t know what’s going on with the lot of you,” she continued, letting her smile gain an extra edge that made Felicity shift awkwardly. “But either you sort it out by yourselves, or you  _ tell me _ so that we can go back to being friends.”

“We  _ are  _ friends!”

“Nothing’s going on!”

“It’s  _ fine _ , Gin.”

The three of them spoke at once, clearly unwilling to admit to anything in her presence. She thought about replying, but instead channelled her inner Slytherin – she had observed Astoria’s older sister more than she cared to admit – and lifted an eyebrow carefully. She wouldn’t let them treat her as though she was an idiot.

Surprisingly, it was Victoria who talked first. As the one at odds with the two others, Ginny had thought that she would stay back until she had figured out what angle Felicity and Astoria were aiming for. It was nice to be proven wrong; it showed that, at the very least, Victoria still trusted her.

“We had an… argument,” the dark-hared girl winced. “We wanted to get rid of something but disagreed on the method. They outnumbered me, so I had to go along with their plan, but they think I’m going to tell my father or go back for it, and I think that they feel a little bit guilty about some of the things they said.”

Astoria’s flinch told Ginny that she did, indeed, feel guilty about whatever had been said. Felicity looked repentant, but not quite as much – the girl could be surprisingly apathetic at times.

“And you’re not going to tell me what that thing is?” Ginny inquired carefully. She was  _ almost  _ certain that this had to do with her – call it gut instinct – but couldn’t be sure unless her friends told her.

“Absolutely not.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“I would, but Astoria and Felicity are absolutely  _ paranoid _ about your safety. Really, it isn’t you we should be worried about  _ now _ , but apparently I don’t care enough about you to determine that.”

_ Five points to Gryffindor _ , she smirked inwardly. Outwardly, she frowned, not liking that she was being kept out of the loop, and hating the way Victoria’s voice wavered slightly, as though she was wondering if their friends had a point.

“That’s bullshit,” Ginny snarled, glaring at Felicity and Astoria. For all that they were great friends, the two girls sometimes forgot that Victoria didn’t work like them.

The three of them had grown up with a family, loved and cared for, adored and spoiled as much as their parents could afford. Victoria  _ hadn’t _ . There was a reason why the dark-haired girl was a Hufflepuff; she didn’t trust easily, but when she did, betrayal was inconceivable. Even Ginny, as tired and ill as she had been, had noticed the girl’s behaviour.

Out of all of them, Victoria was probably the one who cared the most about the others individually; she had a protective glint in her eyes when anyone so much as took a  _ step  _ in their direction, and she knew their tiny habits and mannerisms even before they themselves were aware of them.

Victoria hadn’t had love growing up, so she was making up for it now that she could. If she couldn’t receive it, then she would give it, and Ginny admired her all the more for it.

But if Felicity and Astoria were too dumb to see what was right in front of them? Well, she wasn’t about to spill Victoria’s secrets – her entire way of thinking. She could only hope that the two girls would realise that being rejected would always hurt Victoria twice as much as it would hurt them. Perhaps less now that she had her father, but a single man could not erase years of pain in a few months.

“Caring is all you do, Victoria,” she settled on saying. “Now, as it looks like the ‘smarter’ half of our group is currently mute, why don’t you tell me about this little project that split you three up, huh?”

The Slytherin part of Ginny –  _ you’d do quite well with the snakes, little lion  _ – purred in contentment as she subtly manipulated her friend. The other two were being obtuse, so by being outwardly kind, she made it ten times more likely for her to get answers. Usually, she wouldn’t stoop so low, but it wasn’t exactly harmful. Besides, the eyeroll she got from Victoria told her that she knew exactly what was going on – she did have Slytherin blood, after all – and that she would let it slide.

“Your diary,” the Hufflepuff said seriously. “The one that belonged to Tom Marvolo Riddle. I told you that I hadn’t been able to find it, even though I had. I don’t know how to say this without it sounding awful, but he was possessing you. His reasons are hazy at best, but we strongly suspect that he was using you for all of that petrifying nonsense.”

She wanted to deny it. She wanted to laugh in their faces and congratulate them on a well-played prank, but even if they weren’t all staring at her sadly, she wasn’t an idiot…

The voice inside of her head.

_ Don’t you miss me? _ It had said, and she hadn’t put the pieces together then, but now she could.

There had been someone inside her mind all along, controlling her and steering her away from other people, making her feel worthless and alone, trying to make her feel safe with him, trying to fool her into thinking he  _ cared _ .

She had resisted, she knew she had, pushing it to the back of her head, focusing on her friends and fighting it at every turn, but… But she had petrified people. She had lost hours, entire nights, and she would never get them back. All she would know is that she had hurt fellow students, caused fear to spread everywhere, let herself be…  _ possessed _ by a  _ book _ .

She stood up from the bed and ran to the nearest bathroom, losing her dinner and heaving until she was only shaking, kneeling on the floor and crying and realising that she had lost  _ months _ because she wasn’t strong enough to fight off a dark entity.

None of the girls had followed her, and she was glad for the space that they had allowed her. She couldn’t look at them right now, couldn’t see the pity and the disgust and the thoughts of  _ weak, weak, weak _ in their eyes.

She was supposed to be a strong independent witch, a girl who could hex her brothers to oblivion and prove to her mother that she could take care of herself. She was supposed to be brave and smart and become the greatest Weasley that Hogwarts had ever seen.

Instead, she had trusted a sentient diary – what a foolish mistake, her father would kill her if he heard about this – and almost lost her mind. She shivered at the thought of what might have happened if her friends hadn’t intervened. Would she still be writing in the book longingly, committing her life and secrets to paper and letting a stranger read  _ everything _ ? Would she still be alive?

Would she still be  _ her _ ?

She stopped the idea before it could fully form and decided to go back to the first-years’ dormitory in order to know  _ more _ . The girls had figured it out, they had  _ answers _ , they would be able to help her. Hadn’t she thought, just minutes earlier, that Victoria had the biggest heart out of anyone she knew? People like that didn’t look down on others simply because they weren’t invincible. At least, that’s what Ginny told herself as she sat back on the bed, surrounded by three silent friends.

Eventually, Astoria started whispering about her suspicions, her confrontation with her sister, about being raised Dark and knowing how to recognise certain things when one looked carefully enough. She gazed at Ginny as she spoke, telling her that she wasn’t to blame, that they thought the diary might be linked to  _ You-Know-Who  _ and that she never stood a chance. She talked about Nott’s father and winced as Ginny’s face turned to stone – she would find a way to avenge herself, someday.

Felicity continued, saying that they had figured out that it was the diary when she mentioned that she had left it behind during the holidays. They had sent Victoria to retrieve it and had been determined to destroy it.

“So it’s gone now, for good?” she asked softly, hope and relief building up inside of her. Both faded away when she saw the anger in Victoria’s eyes. “Or was that the reason for your fight?”

“You’re strangely perceptive, you know,” Felicity pointed out, not meeting Ginny’s eyes. “It  _ was _ the reason for our… disagreement. I’m fairly certain that we got rid of it.”

“And by that, she means that we threw it in the lake,” Victoria snapped, although her gaze turned apologetic when she looked at Ginny. “I’m sorry. There’s a chance that it sunk and that it’ll be lost forever, but…”

“But it’s a magical object that possessed someone for four months, so there’s a higher chance that it will find its way into another innocent’s hands – if it hasn’t already,” the redhead concluded.

“I wanted to take it to my dad,” Victoria said quietly. “I know he’s not the kindest man alive, but he cares about me, and I think that means he cares about my friends too, to a certain extent. Besides, you’re a student here, so he would have had to deal with the diary out of obligation if nothing else.”

“Sensible plan,” Ginny admitted, even though she couldn’t say whether or not she fully trusted Snape yet – she would reserve her judgement until she had solid proof of his true temperament. “Why did you not go through with it?”

“Because the lake was faster and just as likely to succeed!” Felicity threw her hands in the air.

Gryffindor she may have been, but Ginny didn’t grow up with six brothers without learning a few tricks and reading between the lines was one of those. Felicity was lying, trying to convince herself that she had done it because it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. The hidden words were clear as day to Ginny.

_ Because we should be able to deal with it ourselves! _

“You’d better hope, and I mean  _ hope  _ that no one else gets hurt this year,” she looked at Felicity and Astoria both. “Because although I think you meant well, I don’t know if you’d be able to handle the guilt that would come with knowing that you could have stopped the petrifications, but let  _ pride _ get in the way.”

* * *

The rest of January passed by slowly; tensions were high within the quartet, and the unknown threat still sat heavily on their shoulders.

As February went by and no more petrifications took place, the girls’ friendship strengthened again. Felicity and Astoria worked hard to prove that they were sorry about their actions and promised that they would do better in the future.

Classes continued, the mood in the castle turned lighter and soon enough, the only reminder of the year’s earlier events were the students laying in the hospital wing, waiting for a cure to be brewed.

They had started to think that it was over, and Felicity had let the guilt fade away, leaving only traces of regret behind.

And then, the game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff approached.

And then, Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater were found petrified.

And then, reality took over once more.

Astoria and Felicity had decided to throw the diary into the lake, and the cursed object had found someone else. They had played with fire, and it was coming back for them.

Because of them, another student was being possessed. Because of them, they had  _ no way _ of knowing who it was. Felicity didn’t  _ want  _ to feel guilt, but it didn’t stop her heart from clenching painfully at the reproach in Ginny’s eyes.

Victoria stayed silent, but her impassive looks were all too easy to understand.

_ I told you so. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And as always, thanks to my (horrible, terrible, insufferable) beta and sister @fall27 for helping me edit this chapter. Don't hesitate to leave a comment to talk to me about anything, I love to hear from you and get a better understanding of what you like about this story! 
> 
> In other news: I have officially finished writing Loyalty! I've added a chapter count now that I've finalised everything, and I just wanted to say thank you, even before I posted the end of this fic. I never thought that I would finish one of my main multi-chaptered fics, but here we are! You guys still have four chapters left after this one, but I'm already writing the second part of this series, so I wanted to tell you all how grateful I am for your support. Hopefully, you'll all be as excited about the second fic as I am!
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	13. Actions and Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> I hope you're all doing well during these trying times and that you're staying inside as much as possible! I know from experience that this quarantine isn't exactly easy, but we've got to make the best of it, so don't hesitate to read or find a new hobby, and keep up with your usual routines so that you don't lose good habits! 
> 
> This chapter is the calm before the storm; the next two are when we reach the peak of the story, and after that there'll be one last chapter before the end of the fic! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The school dissolved into chaos after that. The antagonism towards Potter and the Slytherins started up again; hexes, insults, vicious pranks… And to Astoria’s horror, their head of house’s daughter became one of the main suspects in the students’ search for justice.

Theo, who had never thought much about the girl, found himself defending the Hufflepuff at every turn – if only to keep Astoria safe from wayward spells. Thankfully, the four girls were spending most of their time in the library, sneaking into the Restricted Section and researching for hours on end.

He wasn’t an idiot; it was clear that the Weasley girl was doing better, but it was also obvious that the attacks hadn’t stopped. So whatever cursed object his father had given the redhead, it had made its way to someone else. The guilt in Astoria’s eyes told him that she had been involved, but Theo hadn’t asked. They were looking for answers, and he was making sure that they were okay. If they needed his help, they would come to him.

Nevertheless, this meant that he had a lot more on his hands than usual; on top of his schoolwork, trying to keep the peace within Slytherin, and tailing the first-years, he also had to keep up with the orders his father sent his way, practice a few low-level healing spells, and win enough points to make up for the ones that Draco was losing in fights.

Needless to say, he was exhausted, the girls were exhausted, the professors were exhausted… Dumbledore and Hagrid were sent away from the school, and everyone was left to wonder whether or not Hogwarts would still be open in a few months’ time.

Three weeks into March, something happened with the Snapes. The girl disappeared into the man’s quarters for hours on end, came out with swollen eyes but a steely sort of determination in her gaze, and the professor left the school for an entire weekend, coming back looking drained but deeply satisfied.

Theo had thought that that would be that; the Snape girl seemed happy, the professor had even  _ smiled  _ a few times, and overall it looked like there was nothing to worry about on that front. He remembered his talk with Astoria at the beginning of the year and assumed that they had settled the guardianship issues.

It should have been simple; it shouldn’t have concerned him. He had been planning on congratulating the girl privately and keeping an eye on her to make sure that she was truly happy.

And then the Monday morning Prophet arrived.

**Pardoned Death Eater Darius Nott found guilty of child abuse!**

The headlines were damning, the article even more so. Theo could feel everyone’s eyes on him, could feel his housemates’ concern, but he read the entire paper, keeping a straight face even as his blood boiled.

“Theo,” Daphne murmured. “Theo, are you all right?”

He wanted to laugh and cry and scream about how unfair the world was. He was glad that his uncle was being punished, but a part of him argued that his father should be behind bars too. Why had they decided to save his uncle’s child – he hadn’t even known that the man had a child, and the article was deliberately vague about him or her – but not him?

Who could  _ possibly  _ have enough authority over the child to call out a man like  _ Darius Nott _ ? There was a  _ reason  _ why Theo was still stuck in that house, and he wanted to know who had enough  _ power _ because surely, surely…

(Surely, they could save him too.)

“I’m fine,” he told his friend, although they both knew that he was lying.

The first-years had decided to have breakfast with them this morning, and he thought that listening to them – no matter how inane their conversations were, at times – would be better than listening to his own mind.

They were talking about the article – one of them must have had a subscription to the Prophet – and speculating, but strangely enough, Astoria wasn’t saying anything. Neither were any of her friends. Instead, they were staring at the Snape girl, who was looking at the Prophet with stars in her eyes.

It took him a few seconds, but suddenly, Theo understood.

It was too easy to picture; the girl’s mother, pregnant and desperate to marry a pureblood – for his uncle would not have accepted ‘dirty’ blood – willing to settle for a man as cruel as Darius Nott if it meant that her family didn’t disown her. He had never met the woman, never even heard of her, but it was a reasonable leap to make; it happened more often than most people believed.

Theo’s uncle would have welcomed her with open arms, content to have found a wife to look good and smile when he needed her to. If she was competent on top of that, who would he have been to complain? And if she came with a daughter to taunt and torture? Darius had probably sent a marriage contract before anyone could even blink.

Theo’s entire body clenched painfully as he remembered the meeting with his uncle during the Yule holidays. He had gotten under his skin faster than anyone else, needling him and poking him where it hurt the most.

His gaze strayed towards the Snape girl again – discreetly, of course, not wanting to attract attention – and he could have sworn there were tears in her eyes. He couldn’t blame her; if his father was arrested, he would have the same reaction.

Not tears of sadness, not even tears of joy, no, tears of pure relief.

He thought about the girl – taller than most of her yearmates, but still small and fragile-looking – and imagined her at the hands of the monster that he had met. Suddenly, respect flared within him. She had probably suffered just as much as he had, but she had come out with smiles and laughter and not a single accusing look his way, she had accepted Astoria, hadn’t dismissed the Slytherins as evil, and had stayed strong through it all.

Decision made for him before he could truly think about it, he stood up and made his way to the girl with dark hair and dark eyes and a light soul.

“Miss Snape,” he greeted her quietly. “Could we… talk? Alone?”

For a moment, he thought that she would refuse. She looked him up and down, stared at his face, turned to ask Astoria a silent question, and Theo thought that she would say  _ no _ . Instead, she nodded slowly, grabbed her bag, and gestured for him to take her wherever he wished.

It was a gesture of trust that Theo wasn’t sure he deserved, but at the end of the day, he was a Slytherin, and he would take whatever he was given.

He led her to an empty classroom – the one thing that Hogwarts certainly didn’t lack – and closed the door behind himself, adding a few wards that would keep their conversation as private as possible – he was only a second-year, after all.

“So, Mr…” the dark-haired girl cut herself off, frowning heavily. Clearly, she disliked his last name just as much as he did. “Theodore.”

The name was almost as bad, but he wasn’t about to complain.

“You wanted to talk to me about something,” she stated. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that it has to do with a… mutual acquaintance of ours. Perhaps one who bears a name unfortunately close to your own?”

“Indeed,” Theo snorted. The girl knew how to speak to – and like – a Slytherin when she wanted to, apparently. “The article that came out this morning made me suspect that perhaps you were… affected by its contents.”

“You wouldn’t be… wrong. I wonder how you came to this conclusion, however, as we have barely spoken since the beginning of the year.”

It was true, and Theo suddenly wondered if the girl had avoided him on purpose, or if they simply hadn’t had any reasons to cross paths. He couldn’t even blame her if it was the former; he certainly did everything in his power to stay away from his family.

“Astoria was worried, earlier this year. I truly don’t think that she meant to betray any of your secrets when she came to me about your father, but the fact remains that she did, and that I was somewhat made aware of the darker aspects of your homelife. Your reaction at the table this morning wasn’t extremely revealing, but I know enough about my uncle and about your own story to have pieced things together.”

She looked at him contemplatively, her dark eyes thoughtful and her fingers playing with the hem of her robes. It was hard to think about her as Snape’s daughter; even though they shared quite a few features, hers were soft where his were harsh, and the professor’s midnight orbs had been darkened even further by the first war. The girl was hardly naïve, but in comparison to the man, she appeared far too innocent to be his daughter.

“So you have,” she confirmed. “Is that why you brought me here? So that I could congratulate you on figuring it out?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “Of course not. I just, I wanted to say… I’m sorry. I know it’s not my fault, but he’s technically family, and as a Nott, I… apologise for whatever harm he may have caused you.”

She hummed softly.

“As long as you  _ know  _ it’s not your fault,” she shrugged. “I’m sorry about your father, I wish my father and I could have done more to help you.”

But they couldn’t have, and no matter how much he wanted to hate her for being free whilst he remained a prisoner in his own home, he couldn’t do that either. It wasn’t her fault any more than it was his; she had just gotten a little bit luckier in the father department.

“But Theodore?” she continued. “If you ever need help, my father’s door is always open. And so is mine.”

It was a small gesture, one that wouldn’t do much, but it was enough for now. She was telling him that she wouldn’t blame him for his uncle’s actions, and that she could look past his last name. It was enough.

* * *

They celebrated Victoria’s freedom by having a sleepover in Ravenclaw tower. The dark-haired girl loved the airy atmosphere in the common room and delighted in having to answer the doorknob’s riddles.

Felicity thought that the system was faulty; after all, it meant that anyone could get into the tower, Ravenclaw or not. The quartet took full advantage of that flaw, spending more time in the blue-coloured rooms than anywhere else. It didn’t hurt that it gave them access to a diverse library filled with students’ loaned books.

The dormitories were smaller than the Slytherin and Gryffindor ones, but bigger than the cosy and close-knit Hufflepuff ones. Felicity didn’t understand why Victoria liked them so much – she thought they might have been the ones she liked the least – but she wasn’t going to deny her friend anything, especially not so soon after their disagreement and reconciliation.

As always, they stuffed themselves with sweets and talked about their lives for hours, stopping only when their eyelids started drooping and their speech started slurring.

Victoria was the first one to fall asleep.

“I didn’t want to bring this up and ruin the mood,” Ginny whispered, gazing fondly at Victoria. “But do we have any news on the diary?”

They didn’t; they never did.

“I think the better question,” Astoria murmured. “Is whether or not we should start snooping through people’s things.”

“Absolutely not,” Ginny shook her head. “It would be a breach of privacy, and it wouldn’t lead to anything. When I was... I never left it alone. I took it with me  _ everywhere _ and I wrote in it whenever I could. I think we can assume that it’s none of our yearmates anyway, and I don’t think you’d feel comfortable looking through older students’ trunks. They would  _ destroy us _ if they found out.”

“So what?” Astoria frowned. “We do nothing? We wait around and hope that we don’t get murdered?”

“Exactly,” Ginny said.

But it wasn’t the same for her. For all that she had been possessed, Ginny hadn’t… She hadn’t wanted to harm anyone. The petrifications weren’t her fault, even if she was the one who had executed the diary’s wishes.

Felicity, however, knew what Astoria was trying to say, she understood the hidden desperation behind the blond girl’s words. The last petrifications weren’t Ginny’s fault, and they weren’t the possessed student’s fault, but…

But it was  _ their  _ fault, just a little bit. Just enough to make guilt rise in Felicity’s throat as she thought about the Granger girl and the Ravenclaw prefect. Just enough that doing  _ nothing  _ was inconceivable.

“We keep our eyes open,” the brunette said. “We ask around as discreetly as possible and we find the diary and then…”

“And then we take it to my father.”

Felicity hadn’t even realised that the dark-haired girl was up, although she shouldn’t have been surprised. Victoria woke up at the slightest sound, as though she was constantly on edge, always listening out for something.

“Right, Felicity?” Victoria insisted. “We keep our eyes open, we find the damned thing, and then we  _ give it to my father _ . No more throwing it into lakes or failing to burn it. We try to get our hands on it, and if we  _ do _ , we take it to an adult  _ immediately _ .”

And as much as she wanted to protest, Felicity knew that this time, she would be outnumbered. Victoria’s eyes were steely, and Ginny’s lips were pressed together thinly; even Astoria was looking at her closely, eyebrows furrowed and gaze worried.

Part of her wanted to deny them even that simple request; she wanted to prove that she could deal with the diary herself, that she didn’t need help, that they were good enough to destroy it without an  _ adult’s  _ input, but it was the part of her overgrown with pride and envy and all the ugly emotions that she was attempting to push away.

She didn’t want that part anymore.

That part got students possessed and others petrified. That part was  _ guilt, guilt, guilt, regret _ .

She didn’t want it anymore.

* * *

“Sweetheart? Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”

Victoria blinked drowsily, looking away from the fireplace and towards her father. The man had finished his office hours later than she had expected, and she had already been waiting for him in his –  _ their _ – quarters for over half an hour.

“I’m fine,” she answered, smiling slightly. “Just a bit tired, but nothing that can’t be fixed by a good night’s sleep. I just wanted to talk to you about… the trial? Was it even a trial? Or was it just you and a few other people stacked in a small Ministry office?”

Her father hummed, taking off his outer robes and flicking his wand towards the kitchen – probably to get the kettle started, the man  _ hated  _ having serious conversations without a nice cup of tea.

“Why didn’t you come to see me yesterday?”

She would have. She had planned on it, even, but Theodore’s intervention had put her on edge, and she hadn’t wanted to think about the Nott situation anymore than necessary. A part of her resented the boy for attending Hogwarts, if only because it meant that she couldn’t truly forget about her uncle – not with those eyes, so warm but so cruel.

“I didn’t feel up to it,” she ended up saying, not wanting to go into the details of her feelings about Theodore Nott –  _ fear, guilt, fear, compassion, fear, fear, fear  _ – with her father. Not yet, at least.

“And you’re feeling up to it now?” a raised eyebrow, one that clearly indicated her father’s disbelief.

“We were going to have to talk about it eventually,” she shrugged. “Might as well get it over with now; I’d rather not be thinking about that man for any longer than I have to.”

He stared at her for a while, reaching out for his cup of tea when it appeared in front of him but staying silent.

A few months ago, Victoria would have been worried. She would have started thinking about her words, looking for her mistake; she would have fidgeted and paced, wondering whether this was the moment when her father decided that he had had enough of her.

She still fidgeted, and she had to stop herself from pacing, but at least she knew that her father’s silence was only his way of going over her statement or question or just thinking about the situation they were in. He didn’t do it to unnerve her, and he didn’t do it because she had committed a grave error; he did it because he wanted his answer to be perfect.

At least, that’s what Victoria told herself.

(So what if she still had her doubts about her father’s sincerity? So what if she sometimes wished that nothing had changed at all, if only so that she knew what to expect?)

“Are you upset about the change in guardianship?” he finally asked. Victoria’s eyes widened incredulously. “I only ask because you don’t seem as… happy as you thought you’d be. You  _ do  _ know that if you would rather remain with your mother, I can make that happen, right?”

Her heart clenched painfully.

Deep down, in the dark part of herself that had grown accustomed to her mother’s negligence, a small whisper wanted to burst out and say that  _ yes _ , she would rather go back to the woman who had raised her. She wondered if her father knew about her fears, if he knew that she didn’t know how to act now that she had lost her safety net, her life of pain and independence.

She wondered if he knew that going back was the last thing she wanted to do, because above that whisper was a storm, screaming at her to trust the man in front of her, to go to him and care about him and let him look after her.

“I don’t want that to happen,” she whispered. “And I  _ am  _ happy that you’re my guardian now, even though I’d also like to know what happened during the trial. But… I’m trying, okay? I just don’t know if I believe it yet. I’ve known you for over half a year now, but you still sometimes feel like… like a dream. You’re everything I ever wanted my father to be, and my brain is still trying to understand that you’re  _ real _ and that I’m not just living in a cruel nightmare. But I  _ am _ happy, believe me, happier than I’ve ever been.”

And she was.

Saying it out loud made it more real, somehow. Talking to the man who had saved her made it more real. She had a father, and he had won guardianship of her. Darius was in prison and could never hurt her again.

“Merlin,” she murmured, tears making their way down her cheeks uninvited. “He can never hurt me again.”

Her father’s eyes softened – as they so often did when it was just the two of them – and now Victoria couldn’t hold in her sobs. She hid her face into her father’s robes as she cried and laughed and realised that she was  _ free _ , and she kept going until there was nothing left for her to let out.

And instead of trying to make her sort out her feelings immediately, her father dragged her towards their comfy sofa and handed her a cup of tea – identical to his own – before telling her about the trial.

She was right about the size of the event; it had been a small affair, just a few officials as well as her father, her mother, Darius, and their lawyers. Both parties had been convinced that they would win, and thus a day-long argument had started.

Her father had concrete proof that Darius wasn’t fit to be anywhere near a child, let alone someone else’s daughter, and he had also been able to remind everyone that he should have gotten guardianship of Victoria since the day she was born, which was a strong point in his favour.

However, her mother and Darius had insisted that as they knew her best, it only made sense for her to remain with them, especially since she had only met her father recently and couldn’t  _ possibly  _ know whether or not she truly wanted to remain in his care until her majority.

As it was, her father should have won the case easily.

“But Darius is nothing if not vicious,” her father frowned. “And he knows more about my past than most people do. I was acquainted with his brother and him when we were younger, when I was less careful with my words and more prone to ranting about my life… It should have occurred to me that he would attempt to use what little information he had to his advantage.”

The little information, as it turned out, was the knowledge of her father’s homelife. His father – her grandfather, dead before she had been born – had been a drunk and all too willing to hurt his child and wife, and his mother – also long dead – hadn’t been able to do much to help him. It reminded Victoria uncomfortably of her own story, and her father’s sorrowful gaze told her that he was aware of their resemblances too.

Darius had tried to use her father’s past against him, insisting that someone who had been raised in such a spiteful environment wouldn’t be able to properly take care of a child. Her father didn’t go into detail about the accusations raised against him, but Victoria was smart enough to understand that it was nothing good – something along the lines of  _ it’s all genetic, the apple never falls far from the tree, could never be a good influence _ .

“However, the odds were against him from the very start,” her father concluded. “My childhood might not have given me any good examples of what a parent should be, but his accusations were speculation. My accusations were very much real, and we had reports to back us up. He was never going to win, and he didn’t.”

For a moment, all Victoria could think about was how  _ good  _ of a storyteller her father was; his voice was deep and smooth and perfect for making the trial seem interesting even though it probably hadn’t been at all.

But then she looked at the man,  _ really  _ looked at him, and realised that there was a lingering tension in his shoulders that shouldn’t have been there. He had just recounted his own glorious victory, his perfectly crafted arguments, the passing over of her guardianship. He should have been smiling or smirking or hugging her. He should have been just as happy as he had told her  _ she  _ should be.

“What aren’t you saying?”

The tension tripled, and Victoria almost felt bad about it –  _ almost _ , but not quite. He hadn’t lied – she would have noticed – but there was something he was hiding from her. Something he was ashamed of or worried about, that had been mentioned during the trial and had threatened his claim for guardianship.

“Dad?”

“What do you know about the Notts?”

It hit her suddenly, and it hit her hard.

The Notts had a bad reputation, and they had it for a single reason. Her father had known them when he was younger, before she was born. They had gotten their hands on information about him, which implied that – even if they hadn’t been friends – they had at least belonged to a… a same group.

“No.”

“Victoria, sweetheart…”

She wanted it to be a lie. She wanted him to laugh and tell her that he had only been worried about a stack of essays that he had to correct for the next day. She wanted him to hold her close and tell her that he was the Notts’ cousin, anything other than…

She wanted him to roll up his sleeves and show her his unmarred,  _ unmarked  _ skin.

“You were a Death Eater?”

It came out as a question, but she already knew the answer. She saw it in his troubled midnight irises, in the way his fingers played with his robes –  _ stupid nervous habit  _ – and in the way he reached out for her but stopped himself before he could touch her.

“I was.”

She wanted to laugh and cry and yell at him. He had been too perfect. She had known it, had waited for the other shoe to drop, and just when she had started to believe that he truly  _ was  _ as good as he seemed…

She wondered if her life would ever be simple, or if she would constantly have to wait for something bad to balance out the good that she had been awarded.

She had a father, but he was a Death Eater.

The fates must have hated her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And as always, thanks to the annoying girl that I call my sister, @fall27, for helping me edit this chapter. Hopefully you liked this chapter and the further exploration of the relationship between the Snapes! 
> 
> In terms of my writing; I have never been this productive. Self-quarantine has really boosted my inspiration as I've been scrambling for things to do. I completed Loyalty last week, and I'm already five chapters into the second fic of the series, so if you're feeling up to it, I'll probably continue posting chapters weekly even after I'm done with this first one. 
> 
> Wishing you well,   
> Love, Julie.
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	14. A shade too dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> I hope you're all doing well, getting rest and staying healthy! I know things have been hard lately, but hopefully you've all found things to do, and maybe this fic can bring you a bit of weekly entretainment! 
> 
> This is one of my favourite chapters (really, these last few are all my favourites, but I really like the girls' thoughts here) and the beginning of the end. There are a few action sequences in the next two chapters which I'm not used to writing, so I'm sorry if they either come off as too rushed or too slow. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

They figured it out during the first week of April, just as their studying sessions got longer and their professors more demanding.

To be honest, if it wasn’t for Victoria, they would probably have given up. Ginny had thought that in between homework and revision and dealing with the snippy upper-years – the end of year exams made them even more insufferable than usual – none of them would have solved the mystery, but Victoria had surprised them all.

The dark-haired girl hadn’t left the library in weeks, and although she insisted that she simply wished to improve her grades, the three others knew that there was more to it than that; they just hadn’t wanted to push. They let their friend read and read and look into the matter of the diary as much as she wanted to, trying to drag her out of the room regularly so that she wouldn’t go insane.

Their silence and efforts payed off. Although Victoria still hadn’t let them in, she  _ had  _ spent enough time in the library to spot the small second-year Ravenclaw boy who clutched a black diary to his chest as though it was his lifeline.

“I don’t know how we’re going to get it away from him,” Victoria admitted, playing with a blade of grass and gazing at the lake thoughtfully. “He’s a lot more attached to it than you were, Ginny.”

“It makes sense,” the redhead answered. And it did, really. “I had you three, constantly pulling me away and looking out for me and making sure that I was okay. From what you’ve told us, the boy doesn’t have  _ any  _ friends, so it only seems logical for him to latch onto To- the diary even more eagerly than I did.”

She couldn’t help the slip, not when she had spent months talking to  _ him _ and hearing  _ him _ inside of her own head. She only wished that her friends didn’t look at her worryingly every time she spoke his name. She  _ knew  _ that he wasn’t real, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to forget the charming boy hidden within the book.

Thankfully, just as no one mentioned Victoria’s gloomy behaviour, her lapse was ignored in favour of the matter at hand.

“One of us could try distracting him,” Astoria suggested. “Victoria, you could go to him and ask him for help with your revision work, saying that you’ve seen him around a lot but were too afraid to approach him or something.”

“It wouldn’t even have to be a long conversation,” Felicity added, biting her lower lip as she thought. “Only long enough for him to put the diary down and look away from it; you could ask him for a book recommendation or pretend that you can’t find a  _ very specific  _ textbook you’ve been looking for, so that he would – hopefully – step away from his table  _ without  _ the diary.”

It wasn’t a  _ bad  _ plan, but it depended quite heavily on how far gone the boy was. How much did the voice speak to him? How often did he black out? Was he constantly itching to write in the diary? Was he completely under Tom’s control, or was he still conscious enough to realise that his actions weren’t fully rational?

She realised – belatedly – that all of her friends were staring at her, possibly waiting for her opinion on Astoria’s idea. She wondered if they did it because they wanted the decision to be unanimous, or if it was because she was intimately aware of what it was like to be… possessed by the diary. She wondered if it mattered.

“I think it’s the best shot that we have,” she said. “I don’t know if it’ll work, because the diary has a way of getting in your head and making you do things that you wouldn’t usually do, but… It’s not a bad idea.”

“Right,” Victoria nodded. “So I’ll just go to the library as I usually do and try my best to lead the poor boy away from the diary, at which point the three of you will swoop in and take it away before leaving as fast and discreetly as possible. Then you can go wait for me… somewhere, and I’ll find you guys as soon as I can.”

It was as prepared as they were ever going to be, however…

“Do it without me,” Ginny said decisively. “I don’t know how I would react to the diary, and I don’t want the plan to fail because of me. Maybe I’d see it and be repulsed, but maybe… maybe  _ he  _ still has a hold of me, somehow, so I don’t think we should risk it.”

No matter how much she wanted to be included, Ginny knew that it would be foolish of her to get too close to the diary and suddenly realise that she wasn’t quite as free as she thought she had been. Better safe than sorry, in most cases.

“Will you come with us to see the professor, or would you rather stay out of that as well?”

Ginny had been about to answer Felicity, but next to her, Victoria tensed, and the dark-haired girl’s magic slipped out for an instant, making the air around them turn cold and stifling. A second later, the oppressive feeling was gone, but Victoria’s shoulders were still raised high and her eyebrows were furrowed deeply.

“So we’re going through with that?” she murmured. “Handing the diary over to my father, I mean.”

It was a strange question, especially since it had been  _ Victoria’s  _ idea to go to the professor with the diary, trusting that the man would get rid of it for them. Whatever was plaguing their friend, Ginny was now almost certain that the Potions Master had something to do with it.

“Well, it seems like the most reasonable solution,” Astoria answered slowly. “He knows more about magic than all of us combined, as you reminded us a while ago, so he’s our best shot. Do you not think that he can take care of it? Are you worried about his safety? Because we can always go to another teacher if that’s the case.”

But even as the blond girl spoke, Ginny knew that she had it all wrong.

She thought that Victoria was  _ worried  _ for her father, that she was afraid of the diary’s influence, that she wanted to protect the man. A month ago, Ginny would have agreed with Astoria and reminded their dark-haired friend that Snape was a powerful wizard who could take care of himself.

But the shadows in Victoria’s eyes hadn’t been put there by a wave of concern for her father. They had been swimming in the girl’s eyes ever since the article in the prophet that had announced Nott’s sentence; ever since she had spoken to her father about the change in guardianship.

They were shadows of  _ doubt _ , of  _ fear _ .

“Victoria,” Ginny started quietly. “Is there a reason why we shouldn’t trust your father with the diary? Did something happen?”

If the man had raised a hand to her friend, there would be  _ hell  _ to pay. If he had touched a single hair on her head, she would make sure that he regretted it for the rest of his life. If he had taken advantage of Victoria’s huge heart in order to knock her down when she had finally found happiness…

“It’s nothing,” the dark-haired girl replied, but the haunted look in her midnight irises disagreed.

“Really?” Felicity drawled, and Ginny remembered why she cared so much about the brunette; she may not have been perfect, but she loved her friends, and her gaze was full of concern as she looked at Victoria. “Is that why you’ve been brooding for weeks now? Because of  _ nothing _ ?”

“It’s not… It’s a family thing, I suppose,” Victoria frowned, although her eyes widened immediately after she said that. “He hasn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re thinking! We just… talked about some things that surprised me.”

“But he’ll help us?” Astoria insisted, clearly as unwilling to take chances with the diary as Ginny was. “He’ll destroy the diary?”

The eldest of the group opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“He will. If he knows how to do it, he will.”

And Ginny would be there to make sure of it. Something about the professor was making Victoria nervous, and the redhead would be damned if she let her friend approach him without as much backup as possible.

* * *

Astoria held her breath as Victoria stood up from her usual library table – as far away from the entrance as possible – and walked towards a shy-looking Ravenclaw boy with messy sandy blond hair and dark bags under his eyes.

After their discussion the previous day, the quartet of girls had decided that it would be best to get a hold of the diary  _ quickly _ . Ginny had been under its thrall for four months and confirmed that – without friends – the effects of the diary got exponentially worse, which meant that every minute counted. 

Looking at the boy, Astoria understood why many had assumed that Ginny was simply tired or stressed. He appeared like he could use a dose or two – or ten – of dreamless sleep, but other than that, he seemed… normal. If not for Astoria and Daphne’s careful observations and knowledge of the dark arts, Ginny’s affliction would have been passed off as homesickness or some nonsense like that, and…

Well, she’d rather not think about what might have happened.

The boy looked uncertain as Victoria talked to him, but Astoria knew that he would eventually cave under the weight of the dark-haired girl’s deep and warm gaze. He wouldn’t be able to refuse the first-year’s request to help her find a Potions’ book that she had been searching for, not when Victoria pouted slightly and let her eyes widen innocently.

Indeed, a minute later, the Ravenclaw set the diary down, looking back at it anxiously until he disappeared into the shelves with the younger Hufflepuff.

“Let’s go,” Felicity hissed furiously, hurrying towards the diary and carefully levitating it – none of them wanted to  _ touch  _ the thing.

Astoria stayed a few steps behind her, looking out for Victoria and her second-year escort, as well as other students who might get suspicious if they saw two first-years using a levitation charm on a seemingly harmless object.

They left the library and rushed into an abandoned classroom that they had set as their meeting place. As soon as the door closed behind them, both girls winced and stood as far away from the diary as possible.

Astoria didn’t know if it was because they  _ knew  _ what the diary was, or if the entity had gained enough strength to physically affect them, or if the two of them were simply more sensitive to dark magic than most people, but being near the thing was  _ painful _ . It reeked of maliciousness, as if it was aware of the girls’ plan, and for the first time, the blond girl started doubting their idea.

“Is it going to hurt us?” she whispered fearfully, unwilling to look away from the diary but terrified of what it could do to them.

“I don’t know,” Felicity answered just as softly, her fingers clamped tightly on her wand. “It shouldn’t be able to. It doesn’t have a… a body.”

“Could it…” Astoria started, but the brunette was shaking her head in the negative even before she could finish her question.

“No,” she said, before repeating it a bit more surely. “No. We haven’t been possessed and our magic is stronger than whatever is keeping it sentient. Ginny… Ginny might have to be careful, but even then, he wouldn’t be able to  _ take  _ her body. He could weaken her, and maybe use her magic against her, although I’m not sure because I don’t actually know that much about possession so who knows what might happen. Oh Merlin, we shouldn’t have asked Ginny to come with us when we go to see the professor, what if it reacts and harms her and…”

Of course, Ginny chose that exact moment to enter the room.

The heavy atmosphere that had made it hard for Astoria and Felicity to breathe disappeared and was replaced by small black tendrils that slowly made their way towards the redhead. So the diary  _ did  _ feel their hostility.

“Gin,” Felicity said, her voice trembling. “I think you should go.”

But Ginny wasn’t moving; for a moment, Astoria wondered if she was even breathing. Instead, the girl was staring at the tendrils as though they were the most fascinating thing she had ever seen, her hand reaching out and…

“Stop!” Astoria cried out, but Ginny was enthralled, and the diary was hissing, and everything was moving too fast, and…

A tendril wrapped itself around their youngest friend’s wrist and disappeared under her skin. In an instant, Ginny collapsed, her skin paling and a thin layer of sweat making her forehead shine.

“Damn it,” Felicity swore. “We need to get Snape. We have to get him  _ now,  _ Astoria, or Madam Pomfrey, or another professor, or  _ someone _ .”

It was a sound idea, a logical plan; it was their only option, now that Ginny was lying unconscious on the floor and that the tendrils were changing and shifting and gathering until…

Victoria opened the door and time stopped. The tendrils paused, almost like they were getting a taste of the raven-haired girl’s magic. Victoria’s mouth dropped open and her eyes grew alarmed when they spotted Ginny. She took a step towards the redhead, and it seemed that the tendrils didn’t need anything else.

They flocked towards one another, eventually settling next to the young Gryffindor and forming a shape, an outline, a shadow, a  _ person _ . The darkness was gone, but the boy left in its place was  _ darker _ somehow, all sharp features and cold blue eyes and a small smirk.

Astoria wondered who he was. A Death Eater, certainly, from what the girls had gathered, but who? Someone alive, probably, as possession from the afterlife was impossible. Someone powerful, with enough influence to gain the Dark Lord’s favour and hide in a diary to accomplish his master’s goal.

Someone  _ beautiful _ , the blond girl had to admit. And younger than she had expected, although his appearance could be an illusion.

Someone  _ dangerous _ , for that was what the ice in his stare suggested, and what the graceful way he picked up Ginny’s wand implied. He held the wood casually, as though it had always been his.

Finally –  _ finally  _ – Astoria snapped out of her daze and noticed what she had been ignoring in favour of admiring the young man; he wasn’t real. He may have  _ looked  _ human enough, but his fingers slipped through the wood at times, and his features were blurry, and he was more of a ghost than anything else.

“Victoria, go find your father,  _ now _ ,” she said as loudly as she could; anything to make her friend  _ move _ .

Apparently, Victoria didn’t need to be told twice; she looked at Ginny for a second longer before nodding towards Felicity and Astoria and rushing out of the room before the man – the image of a man – could do anything to stop her.

“Well, well, well,” the shade grinned wickedly. “If it isn’t my favourite little Gryffindor and her  _ protectors _ . I was wondering if I would ever see Ginny again; oh, how I missed her magic. She’s so much more  _ powerful  _ than that blithering Ravenclaw fool.”

“But she hasn’t written to you in  _ months _ , how can you still have a hold on her?” Felicity asked desperately, and behind her anxious words, Astoria could see the fear and the need to  _ stall, talk, keep his mind away from the body at his feet _ .

“Ah, you must be Felicity,” the man drawled. “Ginny told me all about the way you kept her company when everyone else had given up. Her saviour, her friend, a brilliant witch who could outsmart most of her year mates. I can’t say that I understand what she sees in you; you look rather forgettable, and I can’t even remember what house you’re in.”

“Our houses don’t matter,” Astoria snapped. “Felicity  _ is  _ a brilliant witch, and an even better person. Sometimes, appearing dull and boring is the best way to become incredible. It’s rather easy to fool people when they’re constantly underestimating you.”

“Of course, how could I forget about you and your darker counterpart,” the diary-shadow smirked. “Astoria Greengrass, of the greatest Hogwarts house. I’d have thought that you would  _ agree  _ with what I had to say, but your family must have fallen further than I believed. Preaching  _ equality  _ and  _ unity  _ as though those things matter; how foolish.”

“You think you’re so much better than us, don’t you?” Felicity said quietly, her eyes determined. “You think that we know  _ nothing _ , don’t you,  _ Tom _ ?”

It was a stupid taunt, an immature insult that shouldn’t have affected the shade, but it seemed that his name was a sore topic, for his whole face hardened as the brunette spoke, and his smirk turned into a snarl.

“What, is there something else you’d rather be called?” Felicity snorted, but something about the way that Tom straightened at her question set Astoria on edge. He  _ did  _ have something that he would rather be called. Something that made him  _ proud _ .

“Why, little girl, haven’t you figured it out? And here I was starting to think that you were  _ smart _ ,” the shade laughed, a harsh sound that sent shivers down Astoria’s back and all the way down to her toes.

“We can’t all know  _ everything _ ,” Felicity answered, hands shaking but head held high – Astoria couldn’t help but admire her;  _ she _ couldn’t even  _ speak _ . “Why don’t you enlighten us?”

And as Tom smiled cruelly and waved Ginny’s wand in order to spell out his name, Astoria’s blood turned to ice. The letters were moving and reforming a new moniker, and Astoria had never been more afraid.

_ I am Lord Voldemort _ .

* * *

She was running faster than she ever had, her long braids coming undone as she dashed through the halls and weaved through students and heard her footsteps echo in the dungeon corridors.

A few Slytherins looked at her oddly, but they had long since gotten used to her presence in snake territory, and even accepted it to a certain extent – she  _ was  _ their Head of House’s daughter. She couldn’t have cared less about their stares or their sneers when they looked at her dishevelled appearance.

She cared about Felicity and Astoria, her  _ friends _ , faces pale and eyes wide as they stared at a shadow of a man who was twirling a wand between his fingers. She cared about Ginny, the youngest of them, her red hair spreading like fire around her unmoving form. She cared about keeping them safe and making sure that they didn’t get in trouble for their actions and seeing them  _ alive  _ again.

She burst into her father’s office without knocking, panting and sweating and wondering whether or not she could trust the man after learning about his past.

There was a student there, a Slytherin that Victoria vaguely recognised, having probably seen him around Daphne or Theodore before. She couldn’t remember, but it didn’t  _ matter _ . What mattered was that he was in the way and occupying her father when she  _ needed him _ .

“Dad,” she tried to say, but her voice broke and a sob escaped her before she could stop it. She belatedly realised that there were tears streaming down her face and that her hands were shaking so much that she didn’t think she would be able to hold her wand.

“Leave,” her father’s voice commanded sternly, and she almost broke down before she realised that he was speaking to the student, not her. He would  _ never  _ talk to her that way – he had promised, had promised, had  _ promised  _ that he cared.

“Victoria,” that voice continued, softly this time; worried and concerned and loving, just as it always was. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

The words were at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t  _ breathe,  _ and she could feel herself tremble – it wasn’t cold, why was she trembling? – and there was a  _ man  _ with her friends. A man with a dangerous smile and eyes as cold as Darius’, who was standing over Ginny and who would hurt… would harm… would take away those she loved.

“Dad,” she cried, stepping closer to him and trying to get herself under control. “Dad, you have to… We have to go help them. There’s the… the diary and the shadow and he’s going to  _ kill her _ , he looks like  _ him _ , and he’s going to hurt them and take her away and we… We have to do  _ something _ .”

She wasn’t making any sense, she  _ knew  _ she wasn’t making any sense, and it made her want to pull her own hair out. She was good with words and speeches and explaining, but now that it mattered,  _ now  _ she couldn’t get the message across?

“ _ Who  _ is going to kill  _ who _ , Victoria,” her father asked calmly; she let his soft tones wash over her and rid her of some of that damning panic. “Breathe, sweetheart. We can help them, but you need to  _ breathe  _ first.”

Right.

“There’s a diary, a man in a diary, or well,  _ something  _ in a diary, and it was possessing Ginny at the beginning of the year but the girls decided that we should throw it away instead of bringing it to you so it found its way to someone else. And we were going to bring it to you as soon as we got it, but now Astoria and Felicity are in the room with the  _ thing  _ and Ginny is  _ dying  _ and I know we should have told you earlier and I’m sorry but we  _ need _ your help.”

She thought that her father would berate her, or ask her for the details, or talk and talk until it was too late, but she shouldn’t have underestimated him. His eyes darkened – the same way that hers did when she was angry or scared or both – and he strode towards the door, gently pushing her in the same direction.

“We’re going to have a long talk about trust and parental duties once this is over,” he told her as he locked his office behind them. “But right now, you need to take me to your friends. And if they’re in as much danger as you’re implying,  _ run _ , I’ll be right behind you.”

She didn’t need to be told twice.

She took off even quicker than before, not looking back to check that her father was following her; if he told her that he would be there, then he would. She vaguely wondered what the other students must be thinking, seeing their strictest professor dash through the halls after his young daughter.

She stopped thinking after that, trusting her feet to take her back to the room and hoping that her heart would hold up long enough for her to get to her friends. The only thing she registered was the sound of her blood pounding through her body and the stone around her.

It all looked the same, but her mind knew where it was going, turning corners and flying up stairs until she stood in front of a plain door, identical to almost all the others in the castle.

She blinked and narrowed her eyes.

The wood around the door handle was splintering, veins of black and gold spreading like a spiderweb made of magic threads.

“Should we be touching that?” she asked, feeling her father stop behind her, his breath even and as steady as ever. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“No,” the man murmured, and when Victoria turned around to look at him, she noticed how pale his face looked – whiter than she had ever seen it. “It doesn’t feel right at  _ all _ . Victoria, do you know who the shadow in the diary is?”

“Um, some guy called Tom, I think?” she frowned, trying to remember the boy’s name. “Riddle? Tom Riddle, with a fancy middle name.” 

The words that came out of her father’s mouth right then made Victoria’s eyes widen comically. She hadn’t even known that the man  _ knew  _ how to curse, but the expletives were far more varied than the ones that she had heard of.

Before she could ask him how he knew the name – a Death Eater? He would… would know those, wouldn’t he? – her father took out his dark wand and pointed it at the door, gesturing for her to step back. A second later, a jet of magic sped out of his wand and the door opened with a bang, pieces of wood flying everywhere.

“Stay behind me, Victoria,” he whispered, stepping into the room and hiding her with his own body.

The dark-haired girl knew that he was trying to keep her safe, but she  _ had  _ to know what was going on, so she very carefully looked around him and had to keep in her terrified gasp.

“Protego!” Felicity yelled, and Victoria knew that none of them had the mastery or power to handle that spell yet, but her friend’s desperation and fear must have made up for the lack of technique, for a thin blue mist appeared in front of her and stopped the red blast from hitting her.

However, she had clearly failed before; her cheek was bleeding and part of her robe had been torn off. Next to her, Astoria didn’t look much better: the blond girl was holding her right arm up with the one that wasn’t seemingly broken, wincing as she fought to keep a hold of her wand.

Ginny was still laying, motionless, the diary at her side.

And the boy, the shade, was still holding her wand, wielding it between translucent fingers and turning to look at the newest arrivals, the piece of wood moving to face her father and her instead of the girls.

_ Good _ , she thought,  _ better a trained fighter who might have been evil in the past than two first-years who can barely hold up a shield charm. Better me than them. _

“Ah, so  _ this  _ is your professor,” the shadow smirked, bowing at her father mockingly. “A pleasure to meet you. These little girls seem  _ so sure  _ that you’re going to save them; I wonder if they’re right. Although I have to admit, they have such raw talent that it would almost be a  _ shame  _ to see them die.”

“I don’t know if  _ I  _ would be able to beat you,” her father replied in a similar tone – disrespectful, as though the boy in front of him wasn’t a threat. “But I  _ have  _ alerted the Headmaster, and he should be here any second now. And I  _ do  _ believe that I have enough power at my disposal to hold off the shade of someone who doesn’t exist anymore.”

So he  _ did  _ know who Tom Riddle was. And from the look in Astoria and Felicity’s eyes, so did they. She scowled, wondering what information she was missing.

“Sir! Be careful!” Astoria called out. “That’s the  _ Dark Lord _ !”

Ah.

She couldn’t stop the nervous giggle from escaping her this time. Of  _ course  _ they had somehow come across a diary belonging to the most dangerous man… alive? Undead?

“Why professor,” the young Dark Lord’s voice caught her attention once more. “You didn’t tell me that you were hiding the fourth member of the loveliest Hogwarts quartet. Victoria, isn’t it? Won’t you let me see her? I’ve heard such  _ wonderful  _ things about her. Ginny seems to think that she’s the unofficial leader of the small group, and I’m curious as to  _ what  _ exactly is so special about her.”

Her father didn’t move; not that Victoria was surprised. The Dark Lord, however, didn’t appreciate the lack of obedience, and a spell flew towards Felicity and Astoria before either of them could blink. Her father, on the other hand, had reflexes honed by  _ years  _ of practise, and he leapt across the room, a spell on his lips, faster than the purple light that was trying to reach Victoria’s friends.

The second her protector was gone, the shade was in front of her, a disturbing smile on his face. Before she could protest, a transparent hand stroked her cheek, making her shiver. He was so  _ close,  _ and it felt like she was being doused in both ice and lava at once.

“Ah yes,” he hissed. “So much better.”

Victoria trembled, trying not to move, not to flinch, not to  _ breathe _ . She was somewhat aware of her father speaking, but the blue eyes in front of her never left hers and she started to feel fainter and fainter as the shade held onto her – how could it even  _ do that?  _ It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real, it was an illusion, it was –

“You have even more magic than my little Ginny,” the Dark Lord grinned, and it wasn’t kind.

In an instant, he grabbed her hands tightly – how could it be so  _ tight _ ? He wasn’t real, wasn’t real, wasn’t real, wasn’t…

“Sleep, little girl.”

The world turned black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and as always, thank you to my - sometimes confusing - beta and sister, @fall27. Sorry for leaving you all on a bit of a cliffhanger, but I thought that this was the perfect moment for a bit of suspense so... You'll just have to wait until next week! 
> 
> We're almost at the end of Loyalty, and I'm already 10 chapters into the second part of the series, which will come out the week after Loyalty ends (except if you'd all rather have a break, it's up to you really). I'm writing around 2 chapters every 3 days which is a little bit surprising but definitely not unwelcome. I can't wait to share it with you!
> 
> Love, Julie.
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	15. The Chamber of Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> How are you all doing? I hope you're all staying safe and sane, and most importantly, home. It's been a rough week, and my professors have decided to extend our semester without warning us, but I'm still writing and, even better, posting! 
> 
> This is, as you might have noticed, the second-to-last chapter of this first installement, and it features a character that we haven't seen much at all before this - because they're not a main character here, obviously. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

She woke up suddenly.

There was movement everywhere; noises making her flinch and spells flying around as though she had somehow found herself in the middle of a duel or a warzone.

Next to her, someone lay unmoving, long dark hair flooding the floor and an equally dark wand resting a few inches away from them – from  _ her _ , her mind supplied. Her thoughts were making her dizzy and she didn’t know where she was or how she had gotten there.

The noises turned to voices, and she knew that she had heard them before. Two men and two girls, three of them familiar. She looked away from the pool of black and towards the lights; there was more darkness, fluid and fast, and then two very still figures further away.

It took her a moment to realise that everything was blurry. She rubbed at her eyes and tried to get rid of the fogginess that was making it hard for her to think. She needed things to be  _ clear  _ again.

How had she gotten there? The last thing she remembered was leaving Gryffindor tower in order to find Astoria and Felicity, and they wouldn’t have hurt her. They had been… they had been taking care of the diary, she thought. She had arrived at their meeting place and opened the door, and there had been magic everywhere – it had crawled and creeped and made its way down her back and around her legs, she recalled.

And then Tom had been in her head. He had whispered something –  _ welcome back, Ginny _ – and she had been lost.

But now she was awake again and the diary wasn’t in her head, but Tom was still there – the second man, she realised. He was standing and looking realer than a boy trapped in a book should have, and he was throwing spells at  _ Snape  _ of all people. The Potions Master looked murderous.

Ginny’s eyes snapped back to the form next to her and had to stop herself from crying out.

Victoria looked pale and ill and  _ wrong _ , her beautiful midnight orbs hidden and her usually bright smile nowhere to be seen. She shouldn’t have been hurt; the diary was  _ Ginny’s  _ problem, she was the one who had brought it into the school and put everyone in danger, and she should have payed. Not Victoria, who made sure that no one was left out and handed out comfort as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

There had to be  _ something  _ that she could do to help her. The professor was busy duelling Tom, and her other two friends had been pushed behind a strong shield as far away from the two men as possible.

And apparently, the  _ bastard  _ had her wand – she would have recognised it anywhere; after all, wands were like an extension of the arm for most wizards.

However, she currently had the element of surprise. No one was looking at her, probably assuming that she wouldn’t wake anytime soon. Tom was a fool; he would have had to break the link between their magics to latch onto Victoria’s instead, and he should have known that she was strong enough to regain consciousness faster than most witches her age.

She didn’t dare move too quickly; if she wanted to retrieve Victoria’s wand, she had to be slow and careful and as silent as possible. And  _ pray _ that her friend’s wand would work for her, or that she had enough rage and power to make up for their lack of compatibility.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her professor to defeat Tom, but… If she could make his life easier by stunning or incapacitating the man from behind, why not try?

Ginny breathed in as deeply as she thought she could without being noticed and slowly started stretching out her arm towards her dark-haired friend. The girl was further away than she had anticipated, and the redhead quickly realised that she wouldn’t be able to grab the wand without shuffling slightly to her right.

She winced as the fabric of her robes rustled against the stone floor but could only hope that the sound of spells and cries and insults covered her own clamour sufficiently. No one turned to look at her, anyway, so she counted it a success.

It seemed like another  _ eternity  _ before she finally had Victoria’s wand clutched between her – shaking – fingers. It was longer than her own, and smoother too, not to mention darker, but it still felt… warm? Welcoming, at least, as though it wouldn’t reject her attempts at casting with it.

She couldn’t help the glee that settled within her as sparks of magic shot through her; it felt wilder than it usually did – her wand was calm, gentle, nothing like this one – and made her feel like she could do anything.

It also occurred to her that Tom must have tried this wand as well; he wouldn’t have passed on the chance to curse the professor with his daughter’s wand. But he was holding  _ Ginny’s  _ wand, which meant that Victoria’s had failed for him. A small smile appeared on the Gryffindor’s lips; as loathe as she was to learn that the bastard could use her wand, it must have been quite the blow for Tom to realise that he didn’t have control over  _ everything _ .

Now, what to do to him?

She was too young and untrained to know any spells that would really  _ harm  _ him, but she could at least distract him long enough for the professor to do some damage, or find something in her small arsenal that would…

Hadn’t Professor Snape talked about such a spell at the failed duelling club all those months ago? He had knocked Lockhart over and everyone had laughed, but Ginny was sure that there had been a lesson there. They had  _ all  _ practised the spell, and some of the stronger and most confident first-years had managed it, which meant that, with enough intent, the redhead should be able to do it as well.

The professor had taught them something that could get them out of a situation  _ exactly  _ like the one she was in right now, so if she could  _ remember  _ the damned thing, she would really appreciate it. If only she hadn’t been possessed at the time – Astoria had told her that it was something during the duelling club that had made her sister suspicious, so she had probably blacked out most of the evening.

What was the spell’s original goal? It wasn’t to knock someone over; Snape was just a lot more powerful than Lockhart. But the man had ended with the foolish professor’s wand in his hands…

Expel something… Expell, expello? Longer, her mind supplied. The memory was  _ right there _ , at the tip of her thoughts, but just far enough for it to slip through her fingers. Expelliato?

A red light flashed in front of her, making Tom curse violently. The spell she was looking for was red too, she believed, fast and bright and able to bring someone down if it took them by surprise.

Ginny looked at her friends again, at their scared faces from the corner they had chosen, and she wanted nothing more than to make that look disappear. She was a  _ Gryffindor,  _ for Merlin’s sake, and she had been placed in that house for a reason! She was brave and hot-headed and willing to defend those she loved no matter what it took, and she wasn’t going to let the voice that had plagued her for months  _ win _ .

The two men had moved again, and Tom was close enough to Ginny that she thought she could hit him with the spell, no matter how badly her hand was shaking or how awkward the position she was in would make her aim. She only needed to remember the incantation, the stupid, stupid…

Another bright red light flashed, and Ginny’s eyes widened as she  _ definitely  _ recognized the spell from that evening at the duelling club. Her mind, thankfully, finally decided to supply her with the correct memory, and she grinned as Tom inched just a tiny bit close to her.

The wand in her hand was alight with excitement and her magic was begging for vengeance.

“Expelliarmus!”

She incanted as loudly as possible and put as much focus behind the spell as she could, but the light burst out so  _ easily  _ that Ginny wondered if she couldn’t have just cast the whole thing silently.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to test that theory, because Tom’s back  _ had  _ been unprotected, and Ginny’s wand was back in her own hands only a second later, which meant that whatever shield the man had been holding up disappeared.

He was stunned and bound and pinned to the wall faster than Ginny could blink; the professor having indeed used the distraction to incapacitate the diary’s occupant. The redhead wasn’t sure that she understood why Tom was a physical being, but she knew enough to guess that it had something to do with Victoria’s state.

Now all they had to figure out was how to break that connection without hurting Victoria. By the look in Snape’s eyes, the answer wasn’t an easy one.

The absolute horror on Dumbledore’s face when he entered wasn’t reassuring either, no matter how quickly he recovered.

* * *

As soon as Albus arrived and strode towards Tom, Severus rushed to his daughter’s side.

She was pale and unmoving, but she was  _ breathing  _ and that was almost more than he had hoped for. He couldn’t believe how fragile she looked, or how broken he felt as he cradled Victoria in his arms. He had already known that he cared for the girl, but it only hit him then that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone; more than his mother, than Lily, than Melody, more than all of them combined.

_ Congratulations, Severus. You’re a parent. _

“Miss Weasley,” he croaked out, too worried about his daughter to keep up his usual stern appearance. “How do you feel?”

If the Gryffindor was well, it meant that Victoria should be too, when – not if,  _ when _ – she woke up. He wasn’t willing to consider anything else. His daughter would be fine, or the entire world would burn with the force of his anger.

“I’m okay sir,” the redhead answered him, her voice soft and unsure. He turned to look at her and noticed how tired she looked. “I think I might have overpowered that spell a little bit, and my magic already felt different before that…”

She did indeed look like she was struggling against magical exhaustion, her eyelids drooping and shivers racking her small frame. Perhaps she was also dealing with the aftermath of a spike of adrenaline, and more than a fair amount of shock.

“Miss Greengrass, Miss Eastchurch,” he spoke clearly, glancing at the pair of witches who had already been making their way to him. He nodded towards Ginny when they arrived. “The two of you will make sure that Miss Weasley finds her way to the infirmary as quickly as possible. Tell Madam Pomphrey that she is most likely recovering from a forced sleep as well as an overuse of magic, and that she needs to be checked for anything else. You both would also benefit from such a trip, as I can see that you fought valiantly and received a few cuts and bruises.”

Eastchurch mumbled her agreement, but the second Greengrass sister frowned.

“Do we tell her about what happened, sir?”

Frankly, it should have been up to Albus, but the man was too busy having a furious whispered conversation with the  _ young Dark Lord  _ to pay attention to the students under his care – and wasn’t that an infuriating thought.

“No,” he replied. “Tell her that the Headmaster and I will be there as soon as possible to explain today’s events but keep the details to yourself. Rest assured that I  _ will  _ be making sure that Victoria is well, and that Madam Pomphrey is informed of her condition; I only wish to keep her close until we understand what is going on with the… diary.”

He thought that the girls would protest, but they seemed to trust him enough with his daughter to leave them alone and take care of the Weasley girl instead. Their lack of hesitation made him realise that his daughter probably  _ hadn’t  _ told her friends about the unfortunate mark on his arm, and his heart warmed.

She hadn’t spoken to him since the revelation, but she hadn’t betrayed him or his trust, and she had still come to him first when danger arose. She had decided that she believed in him enough to save her against what was technically a part of his master; whether or not she knew that the diary belonged to the Dark Lord was a question for another day.

Carefully, he scooped the girl up into his arms and stood, trying not to jostle her as he did so.

“Albus,” he called out, gritting his teeth when the headmaster continued speaking with the shadow for a few moments more before turning to look at Severus with a benign smile.

“Yes, Severus?” he asked calmly.

“You know how to deal with this, don’t you?” Severus continued, aware that Albus  _ always  _ had a plan, an ulterior motive behind everything he did. The man had probably known that there was dark magic happening within Hogwarts all along but had decided to see how things resolved themselves without his interference. It was infuriating most of the time, it was  _ unforgivable  _ when his daughter got caught in the crossfire.

“I have my suspicions,” Albus replied evenly. “However, it’s nothing that  _ I  _ can do personally…”

“Does it look like I care whether or not you’re the one to deal with this, Albus?” Severus snarled. “I will go fight whatever is hidden in the Chamber of Secrets  _ myself  _ if that is what it takes; if you have  _ any idea  _ how to get there, then  _ tell me _ , for Merlin’s sake!”

“Why Severus,” Albus’ eyes twinkled as he spoke. “I knew that you were attached to our wonderful school, but I hadn’t realised how deep your feelings for our beautiful Hogwarts went.”

_ Unforgivable _ .

The damned fool would rather play his games than ensure Victoria’s safety. His refusal to act could only mean one thing; Potter was involved,  _ somehow _ . It was a well-known fact between the Hogwarts staff members that Albus’ actions lost all sense when the Boy-Who-Lived was part of his plans.

“Headmaster,” Severus hissed, letting his face show the full extent of his ire. “You can try to take my attention away from this matter but let me be  _ very clear _ . Whatever foolishness you had in mind for Potter and his friends, it should have left your mind the  _ second  _ that students were seriously hurt. We have the  _ Dark Lord’s shade  _ inside of our school, and my daughter is  _ suffering _ , so rest assured that if you do not handle this situation shortly, I will do so  _ myself  _ and make sure that the Board of Governors is aware of your inaction concerning not one but  _ two  _ first-year students.”

“I see,” Albus answered, twinkle gone, and lips pinched. “I hadn’t realised that you cared so much about the girl; after all, you only met her a few months ago, whereas your promise to Lily’s son is years old.”

“And that vow became second to Victoria’s well-being the  _ moment  _ that I met her,” Severus told his mentor seriously.

If Albus thought that Severus’ friendship with Lily ensured that the boy came first in his heart and mind, he was a fool. His daughter meant the world to him, and he would sooner die than lose her.

“Ah,” Albus said. “Then she is a lucky child, to have found such a fierce protector. I have my… suspicions about the Chamber of Secrets’ location; I didn’t want to put any lives at risk, but it seems that we no longer have a choice. I believe that only a parselmouth will be able to help us in our quest, so take your pick; both boys can be… convinced to assist us.”

A younger version of the dark lord, or a child with barely enough knowledge to tie his own shoelaces?

One would actively act against him, and the other would risk everything to be hailed as a hero once more. Neither would be any help in defeating whatever awaited him in the depths of the school – a monster, a snake, another damned shade, who knew?

“I’ll take Potter with me,” he finally announced. “We’ll go alone, as  _ someone  _ needs to look after the shade and Victoria. The diary will come with us as well; my daughter and her friends tried to destroy it and failed; however the dark lord may have hidden a weapon strong enough to deal with it in his ancestor’s chamber.”

“And if not?” Albus frowned.

“Then I will dispose of the monster and we will find  _ another way  _ to save my daughter and get rid of Riddle,” Severus replied, praying that it wouldn’t come to that. He didn’t want to think about what kind of dark spell had to be used to dismantle such a vile object.

“What about Harry?” Albus continued. “You do realise that taking him with you will put him in direct danger, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Albus,” Severus hissed. “My vow is still active, so I will protect him as best as I can if he decides to get involved. Rest assured that I will first try to convince him to  _ stay out of it _ . However, we both know that Gryffindors tend to ignore warnings and take them as encouragement to act, especially when they come from my mouth.”

Albus chuckled and the Potions Master could only grit his teeth some more at the blatant show of favouritism; the lions would always be rewarded for their nonsensical actions, always praised for their dangerous deeds, always forgiven when they put themselves and others in danger. Severus wondered if Albus would have reacted the same way if they had been speaking about Draco Malfoy, or even a kinder Slytherin like Astoria Greengrass.

“Then I’ll stay with Tom and Miss Snape for as long as you need me to,” the headmaster said. “But Severus,  _ please  _ be careful. I know you often forget this, but I  _ do  _ care about you.”

The worst part was that the man wasn’t lying, and it made it  _ that  _ much harder to hate him for his infuriating habits.

***

Myrtle’s  _ bloody  _ bathroom.

Severus sneered at the whining ghost as he waited for Potter to show up. Puddles were scattered all over the room, half of the toilets were broken, and the sound of a crying girl was grating; it wasn’t hard to understand why every female student avoided the place as though it was the plague.

Hopefully, Severus would never have to come here again. Maybe he could even convince Albus to shut down the room altogether; no more chamber, no more moaning, no more confused first-years accidentally stumbling into the lavatory and leaving with many,  _ many  _ questions and regrets.

“Um, sir?” Potter’s voice cut through his thoughts. The boy’s eyes were wide and afraid, which did little to lighten Severus’ mood. “Dum- Headmaster Dumbledore told me that I was needed here. Are you, um, involved? Or do I have the… wrong bathroom?”

“I am, and you do not,” the potions master answered curtly. “The headmaster has entrusted me with a task of great importance, and your assistance is, unfortunately, necessary.”

If anything, the boy’s eyes only get rounder. He looks confused, lost, and Severus wonders whether it’s really that hard to believe that a professor has been put in charge of an urgent operation.

Then again, perhaps the problem was with Severus himself; the Potter boy had repeatedly shown and announced that he did not trust the Head of Slytherin. Maybe their little  _ adventure  _ would make the young Gryffindor question himself and those ideas of serpent maliciousness that plagued his thoughts.

“Why, um,” the boy stuttered. “Why me? Surely another teacher would be more useful?”

“Why you indeed,” Severus rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter; you were the lesser of two evils. I do not need  _ you,  _ but rather your knowledge of the snake language.”

“You need me to speak in parseltongue?” Potter frowned, as though the mere  _ idea  _ was repulsive. Why couldn’t the boy cherish the gift that had been given to him?

“I do,” Severus replied as calmly as he could. He didn’t understand why children had to be so bloody  _ curious  _ all of the time. “We need to open the chamber of secrets, and Albus thinks that only a parselmouth will be able to accomplish such an  _ incredible  _ feat.”

“You want to open the chamber of secrets?!” the boy cried out, features turning to quiet – or not so quiet – defiance. “I won’t let you do that, sir!”

Curious,  _ foolish  _ children.

“Mister Potter,” Severus murmured dangerously. “One day, your habit of assuming the worst of people, and especially Slytherins, is going to get you into trouble. Just because you have misconceptions about my house does not mean that they are  _ true _ . We are not opening the chamber to  _ release  _ its monster, we are going in there to  _ slay it _ , understood?”

“Yessir,” the boy answered under his breath. He didn’t put his wand away, but at least he wasn’t pointing it at Severus anymore. “Do we know what the monster is?”

“Based on who put it there?” the professor said, raising an eyebrow. “A snake would seem likely. A very  _ big  _ snake, undoubtedly.”

“And why…” the boy gulped. “Why are we going in there  _ now _ it the headmaster knew where it was all along?”

“Because the Headmaster sometimes makes poor decisions, and even he isn’t proud enough to deny it,” Severus explained. “He was waiting for things to get worse or for someone to stumble upon the chamber at random, but certain people got in the way of such events and tried to stop the petrifications. One of those students got hurt, and now we have to go down there and find a way to save her.”

“Is that why you’re holding a diary, sir?” Potter asked – perhaps the boy wasn’t as idiotic as he seemed, if he was able to connect the book to the situation at hand.

“Indeed,” Severus nodded. “The diary is linked to… an entity. The entity is behind all of the petrifications, and when it realised that a group of first-years had figured it out, it got desperate and latched onto one of them. Now, if you’re quite done interrogating me, I think it’s time for us to get moving.”

“Yes sir,” Potter said. “What do you need me to do?”

And so they set off on one of the most ridiculous missions Severus had ever taken part in. The boy hissed at the sink and watched in wonder as it opened before him; the pair slid down a pipe and landed on a pile of bones; they found dead – precious, rare, expensive – basilisk skin, big enough to make Potter’s hands tremble.

The trip was uneventful, the boy was quiet and obedient – it was good to know that Lily’s son had an ounce of common sense in his brain – and they made it to the main chamber faster than Severus would have liked.

It was one thing to announce that you were going to face a giant snake; it was another to actually  _ do it _ .

“Why isn’t the snake here, sir?” Potter asked softly.

Severus thought that if he died in this place, at least he would do so with the knowledge that his best friend’s child wasn’t as bad as he had believed. After all, the boy had shown caution, attention, seriousness, and well-placed curiosity in the last hour – as soon as he had gotten over his prejudice against Slytherins, at least.

“There are probably hidden rooms,” the potions master shrugged. “Our best bet is to have you hiss at the walls whilst I look for a solution to our diary problem.”

The boy scrunched his nose up, as though the thought of talking to walls was abhorrent, but Severus only snorted. It wasn’t like there was anyone around to judge him.

He let Potter walk around and ignored the sibilant sounds of the snake language, focusing on the various objects scattered around the room instead. They were few and far between, and Severus was starting to think that nothing would be able to get rid of the shade that lingered on the diary, however he wasn’t willing to give up quite yet.

“Sir?” Potter interrupted both of their searches, appearing beside the professor and running a hand through his hair in an obviously nervous gesture. “I was just wondering…”

Severus waited patiently as the boy opened his mouth several times without speaking. If the question was important, he would get it out eventually. Or at least, Severus hoped so; he would always encourage intelligent inquiries.

“I don’t want to be rude, sir, but you don’t seem like the kind of professor who would go running into danger for a single student,” Potter finally said, talking so fast that his words were barely understandable. “McGo- Professor McGonagall would have been my first guess, or maybe Professor Flitwick, or even Lockhart. I guess what I… I was wondering why  _ you  _ had to be the one to deal with this. Is the student a Slytherin, is that why?”

“While your thoughts are not… unreasonable,” Severus answered after a second of silence. “You are forgetting a vital piece of information. Minerva and Filius would have indeed been more likely to jump in front of the basilisk to save a student, and I’m certain that Albus would have asked them to intervene if acting had  _ ever  _ been his plan, however I have something that neither of them do.”

When Potter continued to stare at him blankly, Severus sighed and sent up a prayer to protect him from dunderhead children.

“A  _ daughter _ , Potter,” Severus explained slowly. “I am down here because there is  _ nothing  _ that I would not do to save Victoria.”

“Victoria?” the boy repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “ _ Oh _ , little Snape? That’s who got… attacked by the diary? Ron was sure that she was the one  _ controlling  _ it, not being  _ hurt  _ by it.”

“Yes, well, Ronald is hardly the brightest Weasley in this school,” Severus sneered. “I’m only glad that Victoria settled on a much wiser ginger than you did.”

“Hey!” Potter protested, but Severus raised a hand to cut him off, his eyes fixed on a spot a few metres away.

The corner was dark and damp and all kinds of disgusting, but laying in the middle of the mess was…

“Is that a  _ tooth _ , sir?” Potter squeaked. “Why is it so  _ big _ ?!”

Severus didn’t think that such an idiotic question required a response, so he decided to step closer to the sharp bone instead. The thing was a pearly white, and he could already see that some of the snake’s venom lingered at its tip. He didn’t know  _ when  _ the basilisk had lost a tooth, but it hadn’t been long ago.

“Potter,” he said calmly. “If you move at  _ all  _ in the next minute, I will make sure that you do not see the outside world until the end of term.”

“Yessir, of course sir,” Potter agreed. “What… what are you going to do, sir?”

“Something  _ incredibly _ foolish that you should  _ never  _ imitate,” Severus ground out, placing the diary on the floor in front of him and  _ very  _ carefully levitating the tooth until it floated a few centimetres over the book.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed the appendage and stabbed the thrice damned diary as quickly and strongly as he could, only letting the tooth go when black threads of magic seeped out of the object. They were thick and potent, but they were fading, screeching and trying to hold onto a spell that no longer existed.

The venom had worked; the diary was gone. Somewhere above them, Victoria should have woken up and the shade should have disappeared.

Severus opened his mouth to tell Potter that they should head back up, but of course, things could never be so simple.

“Sir,” the boy whispered. “It’s awake, and it’s angry. I don’t know what you just did, but it  _ felt it _ and it is  _ not happy _ .”

And then there was a basilisk in front of them and Severus’ hands flew to cover Potter’s eyes as he shut his own as forcefully as he could. He took the time to let out a few colourful expletives before breathing in deeply, making sure to stay as still as possible.

“Potter,” he murmured, his lips barely moving. “Do not move. Do not answer me. Do not do anything foolish.”

A clang resonated, the basilisk slithered around, and Potter gasped.

Severus cast the strongest blinding spell that he knew and followed it up with a flurry of cutting spells that he  _ hoped  _ would hit the snake’s eyes. A pained hiss reached his ears and the potions master decided that he was willing to risk it.

Carefully, ever so slowly, he opened his eyes. The basilisk’s yellow orbs had been slashed, and… Fawkes? Was pecking at their remnants. He was so busy staring at the snake that it took him a moment to notice the large ruby-encrusted sword hanging in Potter’s hand.

“Potter,” he glared. “How on  _ earth  _ did you find that sword? And how are you planning on using it? Do you have any skills with such a weapon? For Merlin’s sake, I told you to stay  _ still _ !”

“I did, sir!” the boy objected. “The thing just  _ appeared!  _ I didn’t even know what it was until you took your hand away from my face!”

Severus was about to point out how  _ ridiculous  _ that story was, but the basilisk suddenly decided that it didn’t need its eyes to function and was advancing towards them at a worrying pace. The dark-haired professor grabbed Potter and took the sword out of the boy’s hands, lest he attempt something  _ heroic _ .

The next few minutes were a blur.

The boy was screaming and hissing and clearly trying to convince the basilisk to leave them alone, but the creature was determined to see them dead. Potter hid behind pillars and protected himself with pieces of stone, using spells to defend himself but none to directly attack the snake.

The Gryffindor was a perfect distraction; Severus flung spells at Slytherin’s monster and gradually inched closer to it. He didn’t let fear take over; the terror stayed hidden behind layers and layers of indifference, behind his love for Victoria, behind everything. If he let it get to him, he would  _ never  _ be able to slay the snake.

“Now, sir!” Potter yelled.

The basilisk opened its mouth and Severus jammed the sword as far into the cavity as he could, jumping back before he could get injured.

For an instant, the only sound that could be heard was the grating hisses of a dying snake, and then it slumped down in defeat, eyes clawed out and body motionless. Severus, Potter, and Albus’ phoenix stared at it cautiously, waiting for it to move again, but nothing happened.

That was enough for Severus; he ran to Potter, clamped his hand onto the boy’s shoulder, retrieved the diary, and hurried towards the exit.

They were getting the  _ bloody hell  _ out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And thank you to my insomniac sister and beta @fall27 for helping me edit this chapter (and every other chapter, of course). 
> 
> Only one chapter left to go! I hope you all enjoyed the way I portrayed and changed the Chamber's events; I know it's very different, but it makes sense to me, since the girls changed just about everything else. I loved writing the interactions between Harry and Severus, and Ginny is always a pleasure to interpret, especially around Tom. 
> 
> In other news, I am almost done with the second fic of this series, which will start as soon as this one finishes. I've created a page for the series, so if you want to stay informed, you can always subscribe to that! I'm super excited to get into the PoA plot, which has a lot more magical theory, character development and interactions than this one. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all had a nice week, and thank you again for your support. Your comments (and even just your kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions) mean the world to me and always motivate me to write more! 
> 
> Love, Julie. 
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or on twitter @juniesilvrheart)


	16. Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> I hope you're all doing well this week! Sorry for the late update, my sister (who edits these chapters) and I completely lost track of the days and almost forgot that today was update day >.<
> 
> But regardless of the time, I hope you enjoy!

Someone was holding her hand, Victoria thought as she drifted awake. There were long, warm fingers resting on top of her own, making her feel safe.

The last thing she remembered was the diary coming towards her; it didn’t take a genius to understand that he had somehow taken over  _ her  _ strength instead of Ginny’s. But she was alive, somehow. Her magic felt fine, so he couldn’t have taken that away from her either… Which meant that her father had stayed true to his promise and made sure that she was safe.

Her heart fluttered happily, and she squeezed the hand in hers, immediately regretting it when the warmth disappeared and left a buzz of frantic voices in its place. The people around her were speaking too fast, too loud, and she didn’t know who…

“Victoria, sweetheart.”

Her father, then. Not too surprising, although she was happy to hear that he hadn’t  _ died  _ whilst trying to look after her.

“Miss Snape, you’re in the hospital wing.”

Madam Pomfrey, not unexpected either; Victoria wasn’t foolish enough to think that she wouldn’t need rest and a dozen Pepper-up potions before she could function properly again. She felt like someone had pulled at her magic repeatedly until there was barely any left; her muscles were sore, her wrist tender, and she could feel a migraine building up around her temples.

“Victoria, dear girl, how are you feeling?”

It was the headmaster’s voice that made her snap her eyes open, although she regretted the action immediately when the headache flared up ferociously. She blinked a few times and tried to ignore the panic that rose up in her chest when she realised  _ how many  _ people were fluttering at her bedside.

Her father was holding her right hand again, his midnight orbs full of concern. Madam Pomfrey was on the other side of her bed, vials of potions ladled in her arms. Her friends were sitting on the cot next to hers, smiling when she looked at them. Professor Sprout was there too – probably as her head of house – and even  _ Potter  _ had made an appearance, for some reason.

And then there was the headmaster, looking at her with a benign smile that made her grimace; she had no fondness for older, powerful men who grinned at her and called her  _ dear girl  _ or  _ my girl  _ or anything of the like. She  _ especially  _ had no fondness for the man who had put countless students in danger by refusing to act, who overworked her father, and who only approached her when his mistakes got her injured.

“Miss Snape,” Madam Pomfrey repeated. “Are you quite all right?”

“I’m not sure,” Victoria answered truthfully. “There are… a lot of people here, and it’s a bit bright. Could I get something for my headache?”

“Of course,” the matron nodded, handing over a blue potion that would make most of her aches go away. “Everyone, out! You heard the poor girl; you’re crowding her and making her feel uncomfortable. And  _ yes  _ you can stay, Severus, you  _ are  _ her father after all.”

“Poppy, I have things to ask Miss Snape and her friends,” the headmaster pointed out. “And perhaps Mister Potter would also have things to add during our conversation.”

The mediwitch pursed her lips and shook her head, but the man was her employer, and it was clear that there was nothing she could do to keep him away.

“Have it your way, Albus!” she huffed. “Besides, if Miss Snape feels overwhelmed, I have no doubt that Severus will drag you out of here himself.”

Victoria and her father smirked simultaneously, both knowing that if it came down to that, the potions master wouldn’t hesitate.

In the meantime, however, Pomfrey’s surrender meant that Victoria was still in the company of people she didn’t trust. She had no  _ clue  _ why Potter was there, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know the answer to that unasked question. She had noticed how trouble found him and hadn’t forgotten the way he and his friends had spoken about her during the winter holidays.

“Sweetheart,” her father said, catching her attention. “Are you sure that you’re well enough to have this discussion? I’m sure that the headmaster would be willing to wait a few hours or  _ days  _ if you aren’t up to it.”

Victoria smiled softly, appreciating the man’s efforts, but she knew that she wouldn’t enjoy the  _ talk  _ either way, so they might as well get it over with as fast as possible. The sooner she could forget about the day’s events, the better.

“I’m fine,” she assured her father. “What did you want to us to tell you, Headmaster?”

“Ah, dear girl –”

“ _ Miss Snape _ ,” she cut in, narrowing her eyes at the man.

“– I only wanted to understand how your friends and you discovered the mystery behind the diary before anyone on the staff. Severus has told me – repeatedly – that none of you were involved in its placement or its influence, but I’ll ask you to forgive my old man doubts and indulge me with the full story.”

Victoria frowned; no matter how prettily he said things or how carefully he tried to conceal the meaning of his words, the message was clear: the headmaster didn’t trust her, and he wasn’t going to listen to her father either.

She glanced at her friends; the three girls she cared about more than anything and who had all been impacted by the diary in more ways than one. Ginny looked terrified but resigned, as though she knew that her involvement would come to light and that she would be shunned by the head of their school – and possibly even the other students. Astoria had that same look of regret on her face that had been lingering ever since the petrifications had resumed. Felicity was better at hiding her emotions, but she radiated guilt and her eyes were terrified.

The headmaster wanted the full story, but he hadn’t asked any of them, who had had the time to talk and come up with a plan beforehand. Instead, he wanted  _ Victoria’s  _ version; his professor’s daughter, barely recovered from a magical attack, a  _ Hufflepuff _ . He thought she was the weakest link.

And who was she to correct his misconception?

She widened her eyes and let a few tears cloud her vision. She was  _ used  _ to being thought of as fragile; she could play the part perfectly, and she would twist facts until she was satisfied with her tale. There was such beauty in taking the truth and turning it to her advantage.

“It’s all my fault, sir,” she cried. “You see, my… my stepfather, he’s a  _ horrible man _ ; I’m sure you read that article earlier this year… At the beginning of the year, I was  _ so lost _ . My father was here, but I wasn’t sure if he was a good man, or if he was… if he was like  _ him _ . I had a few friends, but it’s so hard to trust people sometimes, and I felt  _ so  _ lonely, so when the diary I had found in my trunk started talking to me… I didn’t think anything was wrong! I spoke to the boy within the pages and told him about everything that had been bothering me… that’s how he got a hold of me. My friends kept me sane and eventually noticed that I was acting strangely, so they intervened, getting the diary away from me.”

All of that was true, if pertaining to Ginny rather than her. Her father was keeping a straight face, not moving a muscle, but Victoria could see that her friends were struggling to stay impassive. The headmaster was gazing at her sadly, as though he knew exactly what she was talking about. She had to hold back a snort as she realised that he was  _ buying it _ .

“But I stole it back from them, and then I lost it… That’s why the attacks stopped for a while. Unfortunately, an older boy found the book and was possessed in my place… So really, it’s all my fault! Tom only took over Ginny’s body because I wasn’t there at the time, and my friends got hurt  _ because of me _ !”

Distress was an easy emotion to emulate; all she had to do was think about how helpless Ginny had looked, how terrified the other pair had been, how  _ dangerous  _ the diary’s shade had appeared. Dumbledore didn’t see through it, only nodding sadly and patting her shoulder comfortingly.

“My dear girl,” Victoria gritted her teeth at the name but let a few tears fall to cover her frustration. “You cannot be blamed for Tom’s actions. Even as a young man, Voldemort –” it was her father’s turn to hiss in displeasure. “– was a cunning soul with little care for other people. As confused as you must have been at the beginning of this year, I cannot fault you for falling for his charming words. Indeed, you must be commended for allowing your friends to take the temptation away and for combatting his energy enough to break his hold on you.”

He then went on to explain what had happened whilst she was unconscious: her father had volunteered to go down into the Chamber and had taken Potter with him – which explained the boy’s presence. They had fought the basilisk and destroyed the diary, which had made the dark lord’s shadow screech and curse and ultimately disintegrate.

Victoria was sure that there were things her father had omitted, and when Potter didn’t add anything, the dark-haired girl raised her eyebrows. Whatever had happened in the depths of the school, it had made the boy  _ think _ about her father and his actions.

“Harry and Severus did us all a great service, but your efforts are not to be ignored either,” the headmaster finished. “Without the four of you, I fear that Mister Corner would have lost his life to Tom’s diary. You showed great resourcefulness and logic, and I commend you for your decisions. To express my gratitude, I will award 20 points to each of your houses. So that’s 20 points to Hufflepuff for Miss Snape, to Gryffindor for Miss Weasley, to Slytherin for Miss Greengrass, and to… I’m sorry, dear child, but I can’t seem to remember your name or house.”

At that statement, Victoria and Ginny burst out laughing, and the two other girls were grinning.

“Felicity Eastchurch, sir,” their brunette friend told the man. “But my house doesn’t matter; I doubt that even Professor Snape could tell you what colour my robes usually are.”

“Very well…” the headmaster said, but his brows were furrowed as though Felicity was a particularly tricky puzzle. “And of course, 20 points to Gryffindor again for Mister Potter’s cooperation.”

The boy smiled widely, and Victoria rolled her eyes. The older students had a  _ thing  _ about points that she would never understand. Sure, the first-years loved teasing each other about who was going to win the House Cup, but none of them really  _ cared _ . It wasn’t like they could control everyone in their house; at the end of the day, it was their own achievements that made them unique and that filled them with the most joy.

But she couldn’t exactly say all of that to the Headmaster; she had other wars to fight and other people to argue with.

“Thank you, sir,” she said instead, smiling softly to appeal to him a little bit more. “That’s very kind of you, but I was also wondering if maybe… Maybe I could stay in my father’s quarters this evening? I wouldn’t want to bother Madam Pomphrey for longer than necessary, and I’m sure that my dad would take great care of me, right?”

Her father nodded, his eyes alight with mirth. At least  _ he  _ saw straight through her acting.

“Of course, dear girl, of course,” the headmaster said, using that  _ infuriating  _ appellation again. This time, Victoria hid her annoyance behind a carefully crafted smile that radiated gratefulness.

“Well then,” her father drawled. “If that’s all, I’ll be taking Victoria with me. She needs rest.”

The headmaster smiled again, his eyes twinkling brightly, and Victoria was only too happy to get away from him. She waved at her friends, nodded towards Potter, and grabbed onto her father’s sleeve as they headed for the dungeons.

* * *

As he waited for his water to boil, Severus glanced at his living room, where Victoria sat, staring at the wall in front of her.

The conversation with Albus had been… illuminating.

For one, he had discovered that his daughter was a remarkably good liar. She had smiled and cried at all the right times, and the headmaster had bought it all, offering comfort and placating words that did nothing but infuriate Victoria further. Severus couldn’t help but wonder where she had learned that skill; as much as he would have liked to take credit for her talent in subterfuge and word-weaving, he knew that it wasn’t the case.

Potter, too, had been quite a surprise. The boy had believed Victoria, unsurprisingly, but he had shown that the common sense Severus had spotted in the Chamber wasn’t a fluke. The potions master had greatly shortened the tale of what had happened with the basilisk, deciding that the only thing Albus needed to know was that the snake and the diary had been defeated for good, and Potter had gone along with it. But that was something to think about later, when he didn’t have a recovering daughter in his quarters.

A daughter with whom he needed to have a serious talk about a  _ lot  _ of things. He sighed and quickly fixed two cups of tea before joining Victoria on their comfortable couch.

“So…” the girl started, fiddling with her teacup and deliberately looking at anything but Severus.

“Indeed,” the man said. “There’s a lot we need to discuss.”

“Right,” Victoria winced. “Can I have another pain reliever before we start? I think I fell on my arm at some point, because it’s been bothering me ever since I woke up.”

Severus frowned and looked at the appendage in question; he would have to make sure that Poppy hadn’t noticed anything unusual with it, but if it was just lingering pain from a bad fall, a second potion wouldn’t harm anyone. He handed one over easily and waited as Victoria once again fidgeted, downing the potion and staring at her drink as though it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen.

“Are you mad at me for not coming to you earlier about the diary?” she finally asked, not looking up. Severus sighed deeply.

“I’m not  _ mad  _ at you, Victoria,” he explained. “From what you told me, I understand that your friends did not want to come to me, and you were outnumbered. I only wish that you hadn’t waited until the very last moment to bring the matter to my attention. I’m your  _ father _ , sweetheart, and that means that I want to know when you’re in danger. And as a professor, I could have helped.”

“I know,” the girl whispered. “But I didn’t want the girls to be angry, and you’re so busy all the time; I didn’t want to make your life even  _ harder _ . And… This is all so new to me, having someone who cares and who wants to protect me and see me safe; I’m just… trying, dad.”

“I know you are,” Severus said softly. “Which is why I’m not angry. I only hope that in the future, you’ll come to me  _ before  _ you get yourself into trouble, okay?”

“Okay,” his daughter murmured.

“Now that we have  _ that  _ out of the way, how about we talk about that little tale that you weaved in the infirmary?” he raised an eyebrow and smirked when Victoria flushed dark red.

“Right, about that…” she said. “I don’t really care about the headmaster’s opinion. If he thinks that I’m a weak Hufflepuff with no opinions, then so be it; being underestimated is as good a weapon as any. Ginny, on the other hand, was terrified that Dumbledore would judge her or tell her parents or  _ something _ . As for Astoria and Felicity’s part in how the diary was lost… They felt guilty enough already; they didn’t need an adult telling them that their actions were foolish and that they should trust the staff and that it would have been so much  _ easier  _ if they hadn’t thrown the diary into the lake. They know all of this, and they regret it, so I didn’t think that I needed to inform the headmaster of their lapse in judgement.”

It was in times like these, when she used all of her cunning and skills to help others, that Severus understood why the hat had placed her in Hufflepuff and not Slytherin. For all that she was ambitious and sneaky, her heart was her greatest strength and her compassion knew no bounds.

“You’re too kind, Victoria,” he told her, but he knew that there was a fond smile on his face that betrayed his true thoughts.

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But at least all of my friends are okay. I wouldn’t have done it if I thought that I would be  _ hurt  _ by it; I simply don’t care about the Headmaster and his little games. I don’t blame them for being a bit afraid of him though; I have  _ you  _ to protect me, and they don’t.”

“Hmm,” Severus hummed. “Nevertheless, I wished to tell you that you have a true talent for manipulating words and truths. I was  _ very  _ proud of you out there, although I do wonder where you learned how to lie so well.”

“Thanks,” Victoria blushed. “I wasn’t sure that it would work, what with legilimency and everything…”

“The headmaster wouldn’t have used it on you, not with me around,” he pointed out. “I would have noticed, and he didn’t want that.”

“Right, still, I was mostly improvising, so it was a bit risky,” she continued. “And I learned… at the manor, I guess. Mum and Darius both have a way of saying things without really  _ saying them _ . When you grow up around people who lie for a living, you kind of pick up on it. They didn’t even say the truth to  _ each other _ , and never to me either, so when I was really young, I had to learn how to spot the very few facts they told me from all the rest.”

Severus’ heart tightened painfully as he thought about a smaller Victoria, with her joyful nature and easy smiles, having to learn how to lie just so she could fit in with her absent mother and abusive stepfather. Not for the first time since he had found out about her, he wished that he could acquire a time turner and save his daughter from such a miserable childhood.

“Well, as much as I despise the  _ reason  _ why you learned to lie, it is still a very useful talent to have and to hide,” he finally admitted. “You’ve probably noticed that I have a… similar set of skills, which actually leads us onto the next painful topic.”

The change happened in an instant; the girl’s proud smile slid off her face and her eyes darkened even more than usual. She carefully placed her cup onto the coffee table in front of them and brought her knees up to her chest.

“I don’t know what you could possibly say to make it better,” Victoria muttered. “You were a Death Eater, just like Darius, just like Theo’s father, just like so many of my classmate’s families. It’s fine, it’s in the past, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

But it wasn’t fine, far from it, and they both knew it. He had known that her reaction would be bad, but he had no clue as to how he was supposed to fix their relationship and go back to spending cosy evenings in with the daughter he loved more than anything.

“I  _ was  _ a Death Eater, I won’t lie about that,” he ended up saying. “For a few years at least, when I was young and desperate and had just lost my best friend to a stupid fight. But those are just excuses; I wanted to be great, and I thought that the Dark Lord would help me. When he didn’t, I panicked, and I grovelled, and I made a huge mistake. I… This is my best kept secret, Victoria, one that you can’t even tell your friends. I’d rather have them believe that I’m a Death Eater. However, you need to know the truth, especially if I want us to trust each other and live together peacefully. I’m a  _ spy _ , sweetheart. I spent two years as a double agent, working to atone for my sins and make up for everything I had done wrong.”

When his daughter stayed silent, he tilted her chin up and made him look at his pleading eyes. He was  _ begging  _ her to understand.

“It doesn’t make me a good man, Victoria, but I tried my best,” he said. “I regret the choice that I made, but I can’t change my past. I only hope that you know that I am  _ nothing  _ like the Notts, and not even close to the Malfoys. I am simply very, very good at lying.”

He left her alone for a few moments, taking that time to clean up their cups and check on a potion that he had been brewing earlier in the day – before all of the nonsense with the diary and the chamber.

When he came back, Victoria looked up at him, paused, and then threw herself into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have listened to your story earlier. I’m so sorry, dad. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been, how hard it must  _ be _ . I  _ do _ think you were stupid to ever take the mark, but… I get it. You’re still my dad, I still love you, and I still want to live with you for as long as you want me. And I know that there are some things you aren’t telling me because I’m too young, but I’ll wait until you think I’m old enough or responsible enough or whatever.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” Severus said, stroking his daughter’s hair gently and pulling away to catch her gaze. “ _ I’m  _ sorry for having done things in my youth that could have an impact on you. And you’re right; there are some things I’m not saying, but we have plenty of time to get to know each other, okay? I promise that I’ll never hide something from you if it’s important, and I’d appreciate it if you did the same thing for me.”

“Okay,” Victoria answered, a tentative smile appearing on her face once more. “I’m… I’m really glad that you’re my guardian now, dad.”

“So am I, sweetheart, so am I.”

* * *

After the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, time seemed to fly.

Victoria and her friends studied harder than they had before, creating study groups with the rest of the first-years so that all of them were as ready as they could be. Victoria trudged through pages and pages of History lessons while Felicity tried to cram Potions recipes into her brain; Ginny spent hours outside trying to identify plants, and Astoria practised her wand work until her transfigurations were  _ perfect _ .

Their work payed off, and they stepped out of the examination rooms with a spring in their step, confident that they had done as well as they could have and that their grades would be satisfactory.

Classes ended and Victoria was both elated and chagrined. She was excited at the thought of a full summer spent with her father, but she would miss her friends dearly. As the quartet found an empty compartment in the Hogwarts Express, she looked at the three other girls and was hit with a wave of gratefulness; she couldn’t even  _ begin  _ to imagine school without them.

“I can’t believe our first year is already over,” Felicity said halfway through their trip. “It went by  _ so fast _ .”

“I’d say that time flies when you’re having fun, but I’m not sure that  _ fun  _ is the right word in our case,” Ginny laughed. “I’m just glad that my mum didn’t hear about everything; she would have freaked out and I wouldn’t have been allowed to leave the house all summer.”

“Talking about this summer,” Astoria said. “We’re going to find a way to meet up, right? I can’t imagine not talking to you guys for almost three months…”

“Of course we will!” Victoria exclaimed. “My dad already said that he’d be more than happy to have you all over, and your parents should all be okay with a  _ professor  _ taking care of their daughters.”

“True,” Felicity nodded. “And my parents would love to meet all of you as well. We don’t have to go to your house, Astoria, don’t worry about it. And I don’t know about your parents, Gin, especially your mum…”

“I’ll talk to them about it,” the redhead shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see. I’ll keep you guys updated anyways. Be ready to receive more letters than you  _ ever  _ have. I tend to write a  _ lot  _ when I’m stuck in that house for long periods of time. I used to have a diary, but…”

The girls all grimaced in tandem.

“Yeah, letters sound like a good idea,” Felicity said. “It’ll be an opportunity for me to work on my penmanship; dad’s always saying that I could do  _ so much better _ . And a whole summer in the Muggle world after spending the year at Hogwarts is going to be… strange. I’ll probably need the moral support.”

“Are you guys going anywhere?” Astoria asked.

Most of them were.

Ginny’s father had won a tidy sum of money somehow, and the entire Weasley clan was going to spend a few weeks in Egypt with the eldest child – Bill. Ginny was ecstatic; she had never left the country before, and she was looking forward to seeing one of her favourite brothers.

Astoria and her siblings were being sent to France for a month to spend time with one of their many aunts. The blond girl didn’t seem particularly happy about it, saying that she would much rather be seeing her friends every day, but the south of France was nice during the summer, and she admitted that she would enjoy seeing her childhood friends and the few cousins who lived there.

Felicity was going to be staying on the Muggle side of things for a while, but her father was familiar with the pain of leaving the magical world for an extended period of time and had decided to make it up to her by taking her to the United States. Her mother would be staying behind, and the pair would be visiting foreign magical communities in between cities. It would be a great learning experience and an amazing trip, and Victoria was a  _ tiny bit _ jealous – she  _ adored  _ the United States; found the whole lot of them hilariously crazy.

“What about you, Vic?” Ginny questioned.

“I think we’re staying in England,” she said. “Dad said that our house is  _ amazing  _ and that I would probably want to explore the area, so I’m looking forward to that. Besides, we need this summer to, I don’t know, bond? We’ve only known each other for less than a year, and he wants to find out  _ everything  _ about me. He told me that we’d be brewing and learning and visiting muggle and magical towns, and frankly? That sounds perfect. It’ll be a whole lot better than any of my previous summers.”

Her friends were all happy for her and expressed their desire to see their feared Potion Master’s house. They all wondered about it; would it be something as dark as him or would it be a castle, or would it be a  _ boat _ ? – that idea was entirely Ginny’s.

Victoria didn’t say anything, but she thought that they were all wrong. She had  _ seen  _ her dad’s quarters, and she believed that his house would be something very similar. It would be light and airy and small and cosy and  _ home _ .

Three hours later, after stopping by their yearmates’ compartments and congratulating the Ravenclaws on their victory – they had  _ crushed  _ the competition for the House Cup – the girls took off their school robes and packed their bags, putting away all their books and games and snacks.

Night had fallen and the countryside had disappeared, leaving London in its wake. The quartet had quieted, each of them lost in their own thoughts, and Victoria was gazing at the city lights contemplatively.

Nine months earlier, she had boarded this train in the hopes of escaping a terrible home environment, and now here she was, about to leave it to find a parent who loved her. She was surrounded by her friends and had learned more in the past year than she ever had before. She couldn’t have asked for more.

Except maybe for a decent defence professor. One could only hope, right?

**The end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> I can't believe we made it to the end of this story! I really hope I did it justice and that you enjoyed the way I played around with the plot to make it fit with my favourite four girls. Thank you to my sister and beta @fall27 for being with me every step of the way and reassuring me when I thought that a chapter wasn't great. But most of all, thank you to everyone who read this far! 
> 
> Thank you for leaving kudos, for bookmarking, for commenting, and for subscribing. There may not be hundreds of you, but I am so thankful for every single one of you. Believe me when I say that you are what kept me going, what motivated me when I felt down, and what made this ending possible. 
> 
> The second fic is finished - 16 chapters and slightly longer than this one - and will be going up next week, following the same updating schedule (one chapter every Saturday). If you want to keep reading about my four girls, don't hesitate to subscribe to the Loyalty series and to keep an eye out for the next fic (which will obviously focus on the plot of PoA). 
> 
> I'm honestly still a bit shocked at how far I've come. I'm currently writing the third fic of this series, and it looks like it'll be even longer than the first two. The more I write about my girls, the more grateful I am for your continued support. I hope you keep reading my works, especially the ones that focus on our favourite quartet, but until then, thank you so, so, so much. 
> 
> Love, Julie.
> 
> (catch me on tumblr @hopesilverheart or twitter @juniesilvrheart; there's even some art of the girls on there by one of my favourite artists!)


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